


Wasteland Waltz

by ShepardDragon



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Multi, Novelization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 124,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8937850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShepardDragon/pseuds/ShepardDragon
Summary: Living in a vault your whole life isn't easy for John Ronas. But, what could make it harder except his father escaping the vault and being exiled for it. Now, he must wander the wasteland with only his gun, his armor, and his allies helping him. While searching for his father, our hero must live through encounters with Talon Co, supermutants, ghouls, vampires, robots, businessmen, as well as people who have lost their mind. Lets hope the heat is the worst of his problems.





	1. Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> This is the edited, proofread, and author's note free version of the story. I will be posting the chapters here as I finish editing them. But if you're eager for more story, it's up to chapter 84 on FFNet. Run over there and read away in all its raw, grammatically incorrect, misspelled goodness if you like. Or, you can wait it out here on AO3 and receive it in neatly packaged and corrected chapters. Your choice.

OoO( Prologue )OoO

Legends. Every culture has them. The Greek had a pantheon of gods who lived on Mount Olympus. The Norse had their own world called Asgard where gods and giants fought one another, with the human world at stake. Even the Asian cultures had dynasty after dynasty of kami and shén bearing tales of romanticism, anger, hatred and tragedy.

Jesus, Muhammad, the Buddha, prophets of legend. Robin Hood, Paul Bunyan, Casey Jones, Hercules, Saint Nicholas, King Arthur, Ishiwaka Goemon, Sun Wukong, heroes of legend. Every culture has them, and they are forever idolized within the people of a culture, told to children to make them behave, or to give them hope. There was even an era where these figures were put into comic form. Grognak, the Silver Shroud, the Watchers, Mighty Man, the Unstoppables, and the Unbeatable Shebeast. All made and idolized by youth until they grew up, still praising the same heroes.

This is the tale of one such hero. Not one from comics, or mythological origins. But one who people knew, one who people loved, one who was idolized not because of unbelievable exploits put into text, or told to children. But because of his actions, and his unwavering gaze in the face of impossibility. Even when outnumbered, outmatched, and outgunned, he never gave up on the people of the wastes. It was because of him that the Capital Wasteland is the way it is now, and we have him to thank for the peace we enjoy every single day.

He is our hero, our legend, our idol. He is the Wanderer.

~Excerpt from...  
" **The Lone Wanderer,"**  
Published December 25th, 2297  
As written by famed author Moira Brown

OoO( 1 )OoO

It seems that a lot of the most important moments in a human's life, whether a single man or woman, or humankind as a whole, begin with a flash of light. The creation of the universe is said to have begun with an explosion on a universal scale, a massive flash of photons and galactic fire that formed the livable plain of our existence. And when we first open our eyes, we are assaulted by an intense flash of light as our never before used eyes take in the world around us.

In October 2077, when the bombs fell, the entire world was exposed to a flash of light that literally changed the face of the planet. From the moment that flash covered the surface of the Earth, mankind was plunged into a world of fire and chaos, the likes of which they had never seen before. The entire world, reborn in a flash of light.

Just as one young man was reborn as he kicked open the rickety door of the tunnel he stood in. As soon as he did, he regretted it, as the blinding light of the massive star in their solar system stabbed at him like knives. His entire life, he'd had nothing but the artificial lights of Vault 101 to guide his path. Now, he desperately covered his watering eyes as the ultraviolet light pierced him to his very core. He immediately shrank back into the small cavern outside of the giant doorway of his home, shying away from the intense burning blanket that the sun laid on him.

As he sat in the cavern, he also began to feel other sensations that he'd never felt before. His skin, at least that exposed to the open air, had began to tingle slightly when he had come into contact with the outside air. No longer did thick walls and air filtration systems protect him from the harsh irradiated world. He merely sat, running a single hand through his brown hair as he allowed his eyes to recover from the intense pain they had just received.

While sitting, he thought about everything that had just happened. It seemed as if just yesterday, he had had his tenth birthday almost ruined by the annoying and always intruding Butch. Then again, time itself seemed to disappear in a flash to him, as if vault life were somehow making things go incredibly faster than they should. That was the same day he had gotten his Pipboy 3000, a device clamped around his arm that had practically become a best friend to him. No matter how hard he thought life was in the vault, the Vault Boy always continued to smile courageously, giving him the iconic thumbs up.

He looked down at the green tinted screen of the pipboy. But he was surprised to find that the Vault Boy no longer had a smile for him. Instead, the small figure's face was melancholy, as if saddened by what the boy was about to learn. It wasn't long before he happened to see the blinking appendage that the Vault Boy had. Immediately, he lifted and examined his own arm which was covered in the usual Vault 101 blue jumpsuit.

As it turned out, one of the officers he had to gun down for firing on Tom and Mary Holden had actually gotten him in the arm with a stray shot. How he managed to make it all the way through the fight and through the situation with the Overseer without noticing was beyond him. Such was the wonders of adrenaline, he guessed. Luckily, it wasn't bleeding much, and wouldn't be beyond repairing with a stimpack. He had gotten of much better than Mary, who unfortunately, had caught a bullet directly to her ulna, leaving it in pieces. She'd live, but would likely have to endure weeks of pain and medication before she fully recovered. She told the pair as much when he removed the round from her arm himself, a surgical process taught to him by his father.

That's when he growled menacingly. His father, the man who loved him and cared for him, ultimately left him behind in the vault when he made his escape. No warning, no signs, no hints, no nothing. Just fell asleep one night, then gone the next morning, leaving his son to fend off psychotic vault guards, radroaches, and an Overseer with a power trip. He slowly began to bandage his arm as he recalled the encounter with the overseer.

After his close call with the two officers down the narrow hallway leading to the Atrium, the young man was attempting to sneak past the Overseer's office to reach the front entrance to the vault itself. That was when he heard probably the most blood boiling, enraging sound he had ever heard in his life. It was the sound of Amata screaming in pain. The next few seconds were a blur as he stepped into the office and raised the gun that Amata had given him and fired it directly into the face shield of the man responsible.

Officer Mack, the guard that the Overseer was using to extract information from his daughter, was as sadistic and psychotic as all the rest put together. He had a baton out, one of the non-lethal methods used by Vault Security to keep the peace. But his had small rods on the tip, which sent waves of electricity into whatever they came in contact with. That was currently his best friend, and teenage romance, Amata.

As he fired, he aimed directly for the chest, knowing that it was the greatest target from their distance. The officer, who had turned as soon as he entered the room, was struck in the chest plate and knocked onto his back, groaning in pain. It was then, when he had a clear shot, and Mack was unarmed, that he stepped on the officer's now pain riddled gut, and aimed directly at the man's head. The next bullet smashed the flimsy plastic and splattered the man's blood all over the inside of the shattered mask.

The much older man quickly backed up, raising his hands in defense as John, the doctor's son, reached down to grab the electro-baton off of Mack's corpse. "Please! Don't kill him!" shouted Amata. His finger froze on the trigger as he stared at the man with a hatred that burned deeper than any of the fires that had sprung up in the vault. Reaching down, the doctor's son grabbed the baton that had fallen from Mack's hand when he was shot in the chest.

"Now young man, don't do anything you may regret…" said the Overseer, his tone surprisingly level for having a gun pointed at him by the young man responsible for executing one of his guards.

"You killed him you son of a bitch..." John said as he whipped the edge of the baton into the side of the Overseer's leg, causing the man's stance to buckle, sending him to the floor in pain. "He was a pushover, a fan of sci-fi comics who had trouble asking Jane on a date. And you had him killed..." Despite the probable knee fracture, the older man still managed to crawl backwards as the pistol was held in his face.

"Please..." was all he managed to get out before John aimed the baton at him as well.

"Save it." he said, whipping the baton across the Overseer's hand as it tried to grab the leg of his jumpsuit. "You've killed Jonas, you've tried to kill me, and you had that barbarian torturing your own goddamn daughter!" he shouted, the force behind his voice practically shaking the walls. Two of the guards that had come up to the door, preparing to take the young man down froze in place at the statement.

"I-I did it for the vault!" shouted the older man.

"Say the phrase "for the vault" one more time and this'll be going up your ass." said John viciously as he waved the shock baton in the man's face. "Now, I'm going to say two things, and you're going to listen to me as I say them. Do I make myself clear?" asked the enraged young man. The Overseer nodded his head rapidly. "Good, now stand up." he commanded. As Alphonse stood, John lowered the gun. "First, Officer Kendall has a wound to his left shoulder where I shot him after he pulled a gun on me. I patched him up, and he should be fine. Officers Richards and O'Brian are lying in the hallway to the atrium with their arms and hands crippled. I shot them because they fired on unarmed men and women who had nothing to do with me. And Officer Mack..." he said, looking down at the body as blood began to pool out from under the shattered face plate. "Well, he got exactly what he had coming." he said, then turned to the Overseer again. "Do you see what I'm getting at?" he asked.

Alphonse sighed and nodded. "You were defending yourself, and the other dwellers of the vault." he said in a tired tone. "Including my daughter..."

"Good. And second, this is for Amata." he said, pulling the trigger on his weapon. A loud pop sounded, and the Overseer, fell to his back. The Overseer's daughter watched in wide-eyed horror as her father seemed to fall in slow motion and hit the ground. She wanted to scream, but couldn't. She watched in shock for a few moments before she registered that someone else was screaming, namely her father.

The older man was now holding both hands to his head and was rolling around in throes of pain. "D-Dad!?" she asked incredulously as she stumbled over and knelt next to him. After taking a moment to pry his hands away from his face, she saw that his eyes were watering and he now had a large red welt directly in the center of his forehead.

"Amata is my best friend. She has my comm code, and I swear to you that if you ever lay another hand on her, I will kill you with my bare hands. Even if I have to rip away and blow through the vault walls myself. Do I make myself clear?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes! For the love of God yes!" he shouted, still rubbing tenderly at the sore spot on his forehead.

"What did you do to him?" she asked, bewildered that her father was still alive.

He smirked and turned to her, handing her the gun he held in his hand. "Taught him a lesson. If he ever gets out of line again, give him another shot." he said with a smirk. Amata looked down at the weapon and noticed immediately how small it was compared to the gun she gave him.

"A...A BB gun? You switched your guns out?" she asked. He nodded, and she laughed, and laughed. Her father glared at her, then stood up, noticing that John was now walking out the door to the office.

"Where do you intend to go?" asked the Overseer, his voice much less angry than a minute before, but no less irritated.

John just shrugged. "I don't know..." said the doctor's son as he reached up and scratched his head. "But I will find him, and I will make him answer for what he did here today." he said with a look of steel in his eyes.

"Good luck then." he merely said. After those final three words, he left the room and headed for the entrance of the vault, unhindered by the officers who were waiting outside the room for him. When he finally made it to the giant cog that sealed their vault shut, he marveled at it once again. He had only seen it a couple times, none of those times did he ever suspect he would one day return to open the doorway.

Amata approached the young man and eyed the door warily as the giant mechanism slammed into the entry point on the giant cog. After a moment or two of locking into place, it began to pull the crenelated metal wheel free from its home and slowly began to roll it aside. Now, Amata stood next to him as they watched the occurrence with wide eyes. "W-Wow...it's actually opened. You did it." she said in shock as she stared at the dark tunnel beyond the once secured door.

John turned to her and stared at her for a long moment before he held out his hand. "Amata, come with me." he offered.

She turned and looked at him as if he had just slapped her. "What?" she asked.

"I know it's a really crappy time to ask for a commitment, but we're here now. And...I know that when I'm with you, I can do anything. So...please. Come with me and help me find my father." he asked, holding his hand out to her.

The young woman looked at him, her gut plummeting at the admission, but at the same time, her knees were weak in fear. She wanted so bad to reach out and grasp his hand. Slowly, she put her hand forward to place in his, wondering what life on the outside was like. But then she remembered her father, and the people of the vault. She didn't know what was going to happen after the door closed again, but she knew that if she left, they'd all be defenseless. As that thought ran through her head, her hand pulled away again.

John's eyes widened as he saw her pull away. "I-I'm...I'm sorry..." she said, her eyes watering slightly as she stared at him. Despite his father's actions, and despite having to gun down several officers, this was definitely the most painful thing he had encountered today. Taking a step back, he turned away painfully. "John...please..."

"Close the door behind me. I don't want anything else getting in once I'm gone." he said as he reached up and grabbed the tattered armor that was now barely hanging off him. Ripping the velcro clad chest piece clean, he tossed it aside and grabbed his pack again, then began to venture into the dark tunnel that would forever change his fate.

Remembering the situation sent him through another rollercoaster of emotions, from fear of his father being gone, to the pure, unfettered rage he felt at the Overseer's actions, to the heartbreak of seeing her pull away. It all hit him again as he sat, still waiting for the dots to remove themselves from his gaze.

Now, he sat in the cave just outside the vault with the door sealed shut behind him. With his vision clearing, and him going nowhere until the sky darkened a little, he began to notice that the cave was littered with bones. Human bones to be exact. Most of them had been taken by the erosion of time and exposure, but there were still some that survived, the odd skull or full set of arm bones. Surprisingly, there was even a plastic sign written with the words " **LET US IN FUCKERS!"** scrawled on it in a hasty fashion. These people had wanted in the vault so badly that they literally died trying to enter. And he just left. The safety of the walls, the purified water, the non ultraviolet lights, all of it thrown out the proverbial window. He was here now, and there was no going back anymore.

He pulled out the lunchbox that his dad had stashed behind the picture of his mom's favorite quote from the Bible. Opening it up, he found the note from his father to Jonas transcribed on a holotape, something he'd listened to multiple times now since he had sat in the cave. The rest of the contents were a mix between different medications, and oddly, a large amount of bottle caps. He sighed to himself as he threw the holotape against the wall, shattering the fragile disc, then stood to his feet.

Finally, he stood up and stared out through the crack in the door. The sun was now setting, leaving the sky a hushed dark blue, and making it more than tolerable to his sheltered eyes. Grabbing his supplies, he tucked them away before opening the door and stepping outside. It was hard to breathe out here without coughing, but something he'd likely get used to with exposure. Looking out over the landscape to the east, he saw a small, ramshackle town. Then and there, he decided that this would be his first stop. "Dad, wherever you are, you've got a lot of questions to answer."


	2. Springvale Massacre

OoO( 2 )OoO

John had stumbled down the hill quite a bit as he made his way towards the small, decrepit town that he could see from the front door of the vault. The going was slow, considering his entire life he'd had nothing to compete with gravity on except the occasional staircase. Mostly, it had just been the long, flat, metal hallways with their artificial lights built into the side, leaving a soft glow to light any of the darkened areas of the underground bunker.

This, this was difficult. There were rocks, dead plants, and worst of all, dust. The mix of dust and sand put his footing in a constant state of peril, leading to shifting rocks and ground. Twice, he had been sent sliding down the hill, face first because of a foothold mysteriously disappearing into the shifting mire, leaving him coughing and irate. Before leaving the cave, he had cleaned and bandaged his arm, and had given himself a small dose of Med-X in order to keep the arm from hurting after his adrenaline from the escape had faded. This left Vault Boy with his usual happy, smiling face, despite the bruising from the tumbles he took down the hill.

Finally, after thirty minutes of falling, sliding, and backtracking for better ground, he made it to the bottom of the small mountain that the vault had been built into. Already in a foul mood because of his father's actions, this had only put him in a more miserable state. He shaded his eyes with his hand again and began heading towards the buildings that were nearby.

They were small, destroyed houses. There was very little sign of life anywhere in the entire puny town. The occasional empty bottle of whiskey here, the crumpled up food wrappers there, all shoved into the corner of one of the houses that was exposed to the elements. He found one such house that at least had a roof over it, so he ducked inside to find a filthy mattress, littered with empty boxes of something called 'Sugar Bombs'. To the right side, there was a sink built into the wall, just below a large hole that let the dusklight flood into the small enclosure. On a nearby bed stand was a television that had seem much better days. The antenna were ripped completely off, and the receiver box that normally would have sat below the screen was cleaned of nearly all of its parts. Somehow, the only thing that was untouched was the screen itself.

He sighed, then moved over and cleared the cereal boxes off the bed, before sitting down on it. He sat for a moment, deciding that this was as good a place as any to camp as the sun sank full behind the horizon. Suddenly, his ears perked up as he heard...music? Looking around, he dug out a small trench next to the bed, threw the lunchbox inside, then covered it again with the dirt and ash that had to have been from the burnt house itself. Once he was satisfied that it was properly hidden, he drew his pistol and moved out into the darkening landscape, looking around for the source of the obnoxiously patriotic music.

It had taken him the better part of a minute to find the origin, but when he finally did, he was a bit in awe. The small orb was floating through the air, using propulsion jets. Special filters that pulled air through one duct on the top, then forced it out through the bottom, creating a stabilizing, floating effect. Andy, back in Vault 101 ran on the same kind of tech, allowing the jovial robot to float around the vault as he pleased.

Unlike Andy however, this wasn't a Mr. Handy model. This was unlike anything he had ever seen before. All it was, was a floating mechanical speaker that hovered around, playing loud, patriotic music. "What...?" was all he could really ask himself as it hovered past him. He stood and watched the spectacle for a bit longer, before feeling the bruises from earlier pulling him towards the house again. He sluggishly laid on the mattress, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before his mind finally shut down and he drifted off to sleep.

OoOoO

"Well, look what we have here boys!" came a shout that immediately woke the young man up. He sat up, reaching for his pistol, only to find that his gun was missing and there was a heavy boot placed firmly on his chest, pushing him right back down to the mattress.

"Oh look! He's alive!" shouted another voice, this one much more feminine. John looked up into the face of the man now stepping on him. He looked insane, like one of the villains out of his old Grognak the Barbarian comics. His hair was spiked up like one of the old world roosters, and he wore a bandit's mask of paint across his eyes, which were wide as he smiled insanely. His armor, if it could be called that, consisted of numerous bits of rubber and metal chained across his body in an odd assortment. The man looked like he had ripped a car apart and strapped it to himself.

But the most noticeable thing about the man was what was in his hand. John growled to himself as he saw his own 10mm pistol being shoved into his face. "Hey boss, can I go first this time?" asked the same feminine voice from before.

"Sure! Let's get him outside. I want everyone to see this." he said happily, then reached down and grabbed the vault dweller by the hair. "Come with me little vault rat!" he shouted as he pulled the young man out of the small shelter by his hair. When he finally stopped again, the man left John on his knees with the 10mm still pointed directly at him. "Alright boys and girls! We got us a vault rat!" he shouted loudly.

At least five other voices began to shout and holler loudly behind him. John stared at the barrel intensely, realizing that his situation was bad. He had heard from the few GNR broadcasts when he was younger about raiders, that they pretty much killed, and stole what they wanted without regard to others. His hand discretely went down and tapped the shock baton that he had slid into his boot earlier in the day. To his major relief, it was still there.

But it wasn't going to be enough. He was fairly skilled at hand to hand combat, even better with a baton. But five people, armed with firearms was far too much, even if he did manage to get his pistol back from the man in front of him.

Finally, the female who had been talking before approached, with a long blade, probably fashioned from a lawnmower, in her hands. "So, what question should I ask him first boss?" she asked greedily as she eyed the young man.

"The vault! That vault! Tell us how to get into the vault!" shouted the man as he kept his weapon trained on the vault dweller. "Boppo said it couldn't be done, but we got a key to the front door right here!"

The girl, who couldn't have been much older than him, if older at all, eyed him up and down. "You know kid, you're actually kinda cute. Maybe after we're done, I could keep you around as a plaything." she said, tickling his throat with the tip of her blade.

John's eyes rapidly scanned everything in the area, looking for anything to help him get out of this situation. Finally, he spotted the butt of some kind of weapon peeking from over the raiders shoulder. He smiled gently as the group closed in around him. He had the means to defend himself, now he just needed a distraction.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, than his ears perked as music began to play again. One of the raiders behind the female shouted, "Boss! It's one of those things!" Immediately, the rooster-man turned with a growl.

"Shoot the damn thing!" shouted the man as he pointed at the mechanical orb.

While the man had his attention elsewhere, John slowly reached down and slid the baton out of his boot, extended it with a button push, then jabbed it into the girl's stomach before she could move. Jamming his finger down on the button built into the handle, waves of electricity flowed through her, stunning her, and eventually knocking her out. Moving quickly, he laid the young woman down, then turned to the head honcho and swung the weapon upwards between the man's legs. The thud that sounded from the attack made even his stomach turn as the organs were crushed in the blow. The man bent forward in stunned pain, unable to scream, unable to shout, unable to do anything but stare silently at the ground as the pain nearly made him black out.

As the man bent forward, John rose to his feet and grabbed the stock of the weapon, which turned out to be an assault rifle of some kind. Dropping the baton, he pulled up the assault rifle and froze for a split second. When he pulled this trigger, people were going to die. Like his father drilled into his head when giving him the BB Gun, he knew that as soon as he put his finger on that trigger, he was going to take more human lives. Back in the Overseer's office, he had put down a man who was torturing Amata. Even after the sting of her not coming with him, he would still kill for her sake. Then his mind quickly flashed back to the question he was asked when he was dragged to his knees, the raiders behind the gasping man finally pulling their firearms off and shooting at the small drone.

They wanted to know how to get into the vault. And if they got in, what would they do to her? As that question entered his mind, a blood red haze filled his vision as he glared in anger. Putting his finger on the trigger, he aimed directly into the back of the man still kneeling in front of him in agony and ended his suffering. Whipping the barrel of the weapon upwards, he aimed at another one, then fired a burst of rounds into the man's back. When their comrade fell, the others immediately turned and raised their own weapons to him. Immediately, he hurled himself back inside the house he had slept in earlier with bullets following him and ripping apart the woodwork.

The young gunman quickly scrambled away from the door and kept his head low as they chipped at the crumbling wall with their automatic fire. He looked around frantically for any escape, and his eyes immediately locked onto a small hole in the wall to his right. But suddenly, the fire stopped.

"Did we get him?" asked one of the rabid females from outside.

"I don't fucking know! You check!" shouted a male. Footsteps could be heard approaching the house, and he knew he had to move quickly. Reaching up, he grabbed the remains of a broom that had been laying across the floor and threw at at the doorway. The sound that resulted was a loud _clack!_ That appeared to have the desired effect when the spooked raiders began unleashing another storm of bullets at the doorway.

Frantically, he scrambled towards the opening in the wall and squeezed himself through, ignoring the pain of a sharp jab that he received from a piece of split concrete. Once out of the hole, he could see the raiders, but they couldn't see him. The shadow of the house cloaked him in the night air, on top of the fact that they were so focused on the splintered remains of the broom that they might not have seen him even if they were in plain daylight.

Knowing he had little time left before they realized his decoy, he lifted the weapon and fired again. This time, he didn't let off the trigger. Round after hellish round punctured their skin, ripping through tissue and organ and silencing the mad men and women of the group forever. The unorganized nature of the raiders was their undoing. The gunfire that they shot at the distraction masked John's own retaliation, making them easy targets.

After the short battle was finished, the vault dweller sat down with a thump, his heart racing and his breathing heavy. Even though he wasn't crying, he could feel tears running down his face as the ringing in his ears died out and the haze lifted itself from his vision. Whatever their reason was, they weren't getting into the vault anymore. They wouldn't be able to get to her.

Suddenly, he was startled by a groan to his left, and was immediately back up again. The female raider that he had stunned with the baton was just waking up after her shock treatment. Moving quickly, he reached her and pulled the firearm off her side, then grabbed the melee weapon again, compacting it and sliding it into his boot before aiming at her with his new assault rifle.

When the young woman finally got her bearings again, she realized that she was now staring down the barrel of a machine gun, and all of her once allies were now on the ground, dead. Her own eyes were wide with horror at the massacre before she saw his tear-stained gaze. Immediately, she glared venom at him from her spot on the ground.

Before, he had never really gotten a look at her. She had dark, tanned skin and dark eyes to match, but her hair was in contrast to both of them. It was light, and dyed an offensive pink color, while being tied up in pigtails on the side of her head. Despite the dirt and grime that covered her, she was somewhat attractive. But all thoughts of that had passed as he noticed her glare.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice shaking. After a minute of her saying nothing at all, he aimed next to her and fired three rounds into the ground, causing her to jump in fright and scramble backwards.

She had thought from the look on his face that she might get the upper hand due to his obvious inexperience with weapons. But he was beyond the breaking point, and was on a hairs trigger. That thought alone erased defiant look, and one of panic replacing it.

"I asked you a question goddammit." he shouted through clenched teeth.

"Poison!" she shouted, her heart now hammering in her chest.

He wiped the tear tracks from his face, then walked up to her and aimed at her again. "Stand up, Poison." he commanded. She did as he bade, standing to her full height, which was still a head shorter than him. "Here's the plan Poison. I need information, and you're going to give it to me." he said threateningly. "Where is the nearest town from here? And I mean actual town with people. Not some shithole like this!" he snapped, his eyes locked on her every movement.

The wild look in his eyes shook her to her core, and she nodded silently. Looking behind him, she slowly, so that he didn't find the move threatening, pointed to the horizon behind him. "There's a city over there called Megaton." Keeping the weapon trained on her, eyed her threateningly.

"You ever dance Poison?" he asked, the weapon still aimed directly into her chest from far enough away that there was no chance of her getting to it before he pulled the trigger.

She stared, startled and wide-eyed at the question. "The fuck kid? Are you high?"

"You and me, we're going to dance real quick. I'm going to move in a circle, and you're going to move with me. But we're going to do it real slow, understand?" he asked, his tone reeking of anger. She just nodded dumbly, and he began to move. She moved with him, step by step, like two particles in quantum entanglement. He continued to move until he was standing directly where she had been standing before. When he stopped, she took that as her cue to stop as well. "That looks like a junkyard." he said, eyeing her curiously.

Finally, understanding that the dance was so that he could look at the city without having to turn his back on her, she shook her head frantically. "It's a town, I swear! They made it out of some kinda plane that crashed there a long time ago. Our last leader, Boppo died trying to raid the place." she finished, her hands now up, showing she was defenseless. John smiled briefly, then nodded his head in the direction opposite of the town.

"Now, you're going to run. Take whatever supplies that your guys brought with you, but no weapons, and take off in that direction. When I can no longer see you, I'll leave. If you turn or deviate from that path, I'll open fire until you're back on it. Get me?" he snapped threateningly. She nodded, slightly wide-eyed at being let free. "Oh, and if I see you again, chances are I'll kill you. So try not to cross me again. You see what happened to them." he said, nodding his head towards the corpses now littering the street. "Now, get your stuff and go."

She wasted no time in running and grabbing one of the dead raiders' packs and cramming it with as much food and water as she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that he was still aiming directly at her with the automatic weapon. Finally, when she could fit no more, she stood in front of him again, her head low and her hands still up. "Please..."

"What is it?" he asked, slightly surprised at the politeness she was expressing.

Looking up at him, her pretty face looked desperate. From the look she was giving with her brown eyes, he'd have thought she was begging for her life. "Please, I need some kind of weapon. Out there, I'll be killed without one." she said, her voice wavering as she pleaded.

"Funny, I was pretty defenseless when you were holding a blade at my throat." he said, glaring darkly as she shriveled at the comment.

"If I go out there like this, I'll be lucky if I'm killed before they can do anything else to me." she commented, practically in tears by this point. "They'd likely take my stuff and…" she begged, but he cut her off.

"Who the hell are 'they?'" he asked, bewildered at the direction of her statement.

"Anyone! Nobody out here gives a fuck about anyone else! Anyone I come across would put a bullet in me as soon as they saw my bag!" she shouted. Despite the raise in the tone of her voice, her hands stayed in the air.

"So, you mean other people like you?" he asked spitefully. Something about the desperation in her voice shook him however. "Is that what it's really like out here?"

With a look of doom on her face, she lowered her head in defeat. "You'll find out soon enough."

He glared at her for a long moment before he finally lowered the barrel of the assault rifle. "Fine. But..." he started, pulling out the pistol he had taken from her. Her head snapped up immediately, her eyes wide at his words. Hitting the button on the side of the weapon, he ejected the cartridge of ammo from it. As it was falling, he kicked it towards her, then threw the gun towards her as well. "Hold them in separate hands, and hold your hands wide so that I can see them separated until you're out of firing range." he said cautiously, the muzzle of his automatic weapon once again aimed at her.

She nodded in shock as she slowly knelt down and grabbed both of the tools he had thrown towards her, then stood back up, holding her arms out with the ammo clip in one hand, and the weapon in the other. Turning away from him, she walked at a fairly quick pace, trying to put as much distance between her and the gun barrel as possible. It was five long minutes of holding the weapon up, his arms shaking from the strain, before she vanished from sight. Finally, he exhaled deeply and sat back against the wall. The events of the last day suddenly just slammed into him as he stared around at the bodies that he helped create. Suddenly, he just leaned his head back, and tears began to flood from his eyes once more.

He just covered his face with his hands and let them flow, no noise coming from him as he sat in the dirt, covered in the blood of the man he executed point blank. After what seemed an eternity, he stood again, his eyes red, his jumpsuit stained, and his weapon now cold. He cleaned the raiders of what weapons they had, and started picking up the food and water that Poison had left behind when he stumbled across the eye bot again. It was laying on the ground with a round piercing the front of the spherical object. It was an odd feeling having sentiment over an object that had done nothing more than play annoyingly patriotic music. But even so, if it wasn't for this drone, he would probably be dead.

Reaching down, he grabbed the robot and curled it under his arm. "Let's see if I can't fix you up when I get to town." he said as he eyed the front speaker. It had been destroyed by the bullet with no chance of repair. Thinking quickly, he wondered if he could find a replacement, when an idea snapped into his head.

It took less than a minute to salvage the inside of the house of his lunchbox and the parts he needed to fix the small bot, then he looked towards the large scrapyard looking town in the distance. Cleaning his face of the accumulated grime and the mess from the tears, he finally took his first step towards his unknown fate in the wasteland.


	3. Decompression

OoO( 3 )OoO

Once off the mountain, traveling had become considerably easier. There was still the odd pothole and the occasional jagged rock, but the typically flat ground on the way to the city was much preferable, especially given all the new weight he had strapped to him. With the coolness that night brought, he made good time as he trekked across the sand and dust towards the dark walls of the supposed city in the wasteland. After about two hours of walking under the weight of all the weapons and equipment he had taken, he approached the front of the giant, walled city itself.

As he arrived, he noticed a campfire not far outside the entrance to the city. From where he was standing, he could easily see the silhouettes of several people sitting around the roaring flame. With Poison's words echoing in his head, he pulled one of the long-barreled, more accurate hunting rifles off his back and approached the minuscule camp with his head low.

As he ducked behind a jutting stone, he immediately sighted a large animal, made him go wide-eyed with awe. It had to have been somehow related to the pre-war cows. It was massive, even compared to its ancestors, and instead of one head, it had two that were split into a V shape coming off the neck. The other noticeable change to the creature was its blood red skin. No longer did it have the protective fur, but now just a thick, bare, red, withered hide.

Though curious about the creature, he refocused his attention and spied the three humans sitting by the fire. One was a rugged man, seemingly worn down by the wasteland with a machine gun across his back, armor covering him from head to toe, and a freshly shorn grey crew cut on his head. At the moment, he was focused on cooking whatever kind of meat he had speared on a skewer over the fire between them.

The second man was seemingly of a higher stature though. He was more finely dressed, had rounded bifocals on the bridge of his nose, a cleanly shaven head, and though his skin was slightly wrinkled, it was much less rugged and dirty. He seemed to be enjoying a loud, one sided conversation with the man who was cooking about a glorious new drug he had in stock. If John didn't know any better, he'd have thought the man was trying to sell said drug to the third man without asking directly.

The third of the trio was a more simple man. He sat in front of the fire, leaning back into a chair that was made of metal, but the configuration made it look like it was meant to fold and move easily. He however, was rigid in the chair, trying to become comfortable, and failing miserably. He had about the most normal clothing that he had seen on anyone yet, with a pair of trousers that had two pockets on the hips. He wore a dark colored t-shirt, with a sleeveless vest on top. And on his head, he wore a grey bandanna that ended on his forehead, just above the eye patch covering his right eye.

To John, it didn't look like they were grilling human. And aside from the armored one, it didn't look like any of them were even armed. Not to mention they didn't exactly hold the same air about them as the raiders from earlier. After listening to the conversation switch from this miracle drug, to the price of a new brahmin, then back to said drug, he finally resolved to approach them. Sliding the gun over his shoulder again, he still held the assault rifle in his hand, with one finger on the side of the trigger.

At a young age, when his father had repaired a mysterious BB gun for him, he had taught him the basic fundamentals of owning a firearm. Both the best, four step method of firing, and the safety precautions that must be exercised in both handling, and keeping the weapon. One of those precautions was to never have your finger wrapped around the trigger unless you were aiming to fire, lest the trigger misfire. According to his father and the history holotapes from school, one of the most bloody wars in American history had started with a weapon misfiring, leading a nation into war against thirteen small colonies that lasted eight years. The young man was careful with his weapons, and didn't intend to start any wars today.

Holding one hand up with his palm flat in a sign of greeting, with his assault weapon aimed at the ground, he slowly approached. Surprisingly, the man with the eye patch was the first to notice him approaching. "Looks like we got a visitor." said the man as he sat up straight. Then the one eye widened as he saw the jumpsuit that he wore. "A vault dweller? Well, that's a bit unexpected." he said curiously.

John looked at him oddly for the remark, but the young man immediately snapped out of it as the armored figure stood and reached to draw his weapon. The vault escapee immediately raised the gun before the other figure could pull his off his back. "Uh uh, don't touch it." he said, his voice lacking any indication that he was joking. "I've killed more people today than I care to remember, I don't want to start again." he snapped, already feeling his heart begin to pound again as it had before.

The armored man let go of the weapon, but glared at the boy. The pristine man stared at them both, and the eye-patched man leaned forward onto his knees, watching curiously. "Look kid, I've been marching this wasteland for forty years now. I'm not going to be intimidated by some snobby vault dweller with a silver spoon in his ass." said the man as he sneered. John just sighed in annoyance, then fired into the ground at the man's feet. The armored figure fell backwards at the sudden burst of rounds, landing firmly on his rear end.

"That's twice I've had to do that today..." he said as he walked over and stood over the man. "Four raiders are now dead because they tried taking me prisoner. Are you a raider? Because if you are, tell me now and I'll make this conversation a lot shorter." he commanded, raising the weapon to the armored figure's face.

"Now now, I don't think that will be necessary." said the eye-patched man as he walked up next to John with his arms raised. "He's no raider, he's just the guard for Doc Hoff here's caravan. And he doesn't like surprises. Don't worry, he won't do anything hasty." he said, turning his head and staring at the man on the ground. "Right?"

The man said nothing, but nodded. John lowered the gun to the ground again, allowing the strap around his shoulder to take the weight as he turned to the man next to him. "And you are?"

"My name is Billy, Billy Creel. That over there is Doc Hoff..." he said, nodding towards the well kept man. "This is George. Guard for hire, protects caravans and whatnot. Don't let his attitude get to you. He treats everyone who doesn't pay him like that." he said. "And you are?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow curiously at the vault dweller.

"John Ronas, I just left the vault earlier today and was attacked in my sleep by raiders in the small town over there." he said, thumbing towards Springvale. He looked over at George and nodded his head in apology. "Sorry for my itchy trigger finger. I've had no less than ten people try and kill me today, so I'm a bit on edge." he said in a friendly tone.

George regarded him for a moment, then stood again and dusted himself off. "After fighting raiders, I'd be pretty ornery too. No harm no foul." he said, returning to cooking meat by the fire.

"And thank you, it's good to finally meet someone out here with a friendly face." he said to Billy, the relief in his voice very noticeable.

Billy looked at him curiously as he shook the young man's hand. "You said you took out a group of raiders in Springvale?" his voice a mix of disbelief and

John nodded as he took a seat next to Billy's chair. "Yeah, I was asleep in one of the houses. I already had an ordeal getting out of the vault, and didn't know what was what up here, so I thought I'd sleep out the night. But, while I was napping, they swooped in and took me hostage. I killed all but one of them, and sent the last one running off into the night." he said as he dug through the survival pack he had taken from one of the raiders. Inside, he had stashed his important stuff, the lunchbox, the waters he had taken from the vault, rations left behind by Poison, and anything else he deemed important.

"That's a pretty big accomplishment for someone fresh in the wasteland." said Billy as he eyed the water. He was stunned at how clean it looked. "Is that purified water?" John nodded, offering the bottle to the man. Billy reeled for a second, then reached forward and took the thick plastic bottle. "You sure about this?"

John looked at him oddly. "You act like I just handed you a wad of money."

"I mean, you kinda did. To get water like this out here, you've gotta shell out some serious caps." said Billy as he continued holding the bottle out, as if giving the young man a chance to take it back.

But the young gunman just stared at Billy blankly. Doc Hoff spoke up for the man instead. "Caps, you know...money? Currency? Quid?" he asked, slightly surprised at the blank expression.

"He just got out of the vault Doc, he probably doesn't even know what we're talking about." said Billy, before he turned back to the vault dweller. "Since the bombs fell, bottle caps have become the wasteland currency. Don't ask how or why, but that's how it is. So if someone asks you for caps, they're essentially asking you for money." he explained, pleased with himself when John's face lit up like a bulb.

A look of enlightenment dawned on John's face, then he pulled out the lunchbox and opened it in front of them. "Like these?" he asked, showing the mass of bottle caps. Billy's one eye widened as he saw the sheer amount that the new wastelander held.

"Holy shit kid...that's gotta be at least a thousand caps you got." He reached up and pulled the bandanna off his head, using it to wipe away a small amount of sweat that had dotted his brow. "If you've been in the vault your whole life, how'd you manage to collect those?"

The young man sighed and shrugged. "My father left them for a friend, who was killed before I left. I don't think he intended for me to follow him out, but shit happens." he said, taking a swig of the lukewarm, but radiation free water. "In any case, is there a place in the city I can stay for a while? I'm looking for my father and intend to be here until I find out where he went off to."

Billy nodded. "There are a few options actually. There's the common house, which is a large building on top of the hill that houses most of the wastelanders who just wander into town. If you wanna keep your stuff safe in there though, you'll have to take it with you. Then there's Moriarty's Saloon. He's gonna cost a few caps, but he has rooms, food, and privacy. And last, if you track down Lucas, the sheriff, he's got a property that's for sale. But I don't know if you've got enough for that." he picked the gifted water bottle up and slid it into his pocket. "I can give you a tour if you like."

"That, would be amazingly helpful." said John as he stood again, collected all of his gear, then followed the eye-patched man through the grating gates of the city. His eyes locked onto the robot outside.

" _Howdy…pardner! Welcome...to...Megaton!"_ said the RobCo Protectron model as he and Billy approached the inner doors. John grinned widely at the automaton, with its cowboy hat and cheery greeting.

"I'll have to check that out later." he said to himself, his excitement already mounting. He remembered back to when he was younger, how he'd hunt Andy down through the vault and deactivate him, only to take him apart and put him back together. He'd had an interest in robots and artificial intelligence for a long time, but only had one specimen that he could actually take apart. Nobody really questioned why in ten years, Andy had never needed any repairs.

And any time they had discussions about robotics in class, there had never been anyone remotely as attentive as him. It was really the only time in class that his hand was up constantly, both for asking questions and answering them. The protectron model at the door was now a new specimen, something he strove to understand. But that was for another time. Right now, his eyes were scanning the city around him as he finally entered the giant doors.

The entire city was surrounded by walls and more walls of metal that rose up high above the center of the city, making it look like they were inside a metallic volcano. The shops and houses, unlike the vault, were all mostly rickety buildings with walls made of sheet metal, or some other flimsy material that was just as readily available. They were all built into the hill that sloped up towards the giant metal walls, leaving a slight stair pattern to the buildings that were stacked on top of each other. And nearly everything inside the city was connected by a string of walkways that criss-crossed around the large crater.

John was awed at the sight of the structures built into the side of the large crater that the city was built inside. He was amazed that anything within the walls of the large crater was standing with how rickety things looked. But you really couldn't judge a book by its cover. On top of that, he had come from a vault, where everything built was done so to last potentially millennia. So he knew that he wasn't any expert on architecture.

He scanned around the city a bit more before his gaze locked onto the large bomb planted directly in the center of the crater itself. His eyes widened as he realized what it was, two words echoing in his head. Fat Man. He stopped dead in his tracks, a look of disbelief on his face as he saw the undetonated ordnance sitting in a pond as if it were some kind of massive bird, taking a bath.

Billy stopped, then turned to look at him. "You like our centerpiece?" he asked with a chuckle. "No need to worry friend, that things been there for years. It's not going off any time soon. Now let me show you the Brass Lantern." he said and pulled John with him by the elbow.

OoOoO

It had taken a couple of hours to introduce John to every long term citizen of Megaton. He liked the grand majority of them, aside from Jericho who introduced himself by saying that a kid that'll be dead in less than a week wasn't worth getting to know. Bookmarking that statement in his mind, he just grinned and moved on. Then there was Nathan…

Nathan Vargas was a patriot, to say the least. They had run into him on one of the catwalks as he was heading home from the saloon, when the older man spotted the round orb-like machine hanging from John's ruck. Before Billy could even introduce the pair, he went off on a tirade. "Dadgummit! Another scrapper stealing precious materials from the United States government! It's treason I say! You should be ashamed of yourself!" snapped the angry elder.

John just stared at him dumbly, not saying a word as Billy stepped up for him. "I think what Mister Vargas here is trying to say, is that your droid down their belonged to the Enclave. What he forgets to mention however, is that the Enclave hasn't been seen for decades." said Billy as he eyed Nathan sternly.

Nathan looked like he was about to retort when John spoke up for himself. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I didn't do anything to it. I was attacked by raiders in the town to the west when this thing flew by and spooked them. I'm actually planning on repairing it for helping save me." said John as he held up the bot so that both of the men could see the gaping hole where the speaker used to be.

"Oh!" said Nathan in surprise as he grinned. "You, young man, are a true American! You know, back when I was your age…" started the elder again, this time in a much kinder tone. But Billy cut him off, giving the man a pat on the back as well as he pushed him along the walkway.

"That's nice Mister Vargas. Tell Manya I said hello." said Billy as he waved at the old man.

Nathan glared at Billy before walking off. "Kids these days! No patience!" he snapped before finally leaving the pair to themselves. Billy just turned to John and shook his head, and amused grin plastered on his face.

"Shall we continue?" he asked as he turned towards the path down to the center of the city when a man in a long duster and a cowboy hat himself turned and headed up towards them. Billy immediately raised an arm in greeting. "Sheriff Simms! We were just coming to have a chat with you!" said the eye-patched man as John watched the man approach. He had dark skin, much darker than he'd seen in the vault, and a short beard to fit the cowboy visage he had going.

"And who might this be?" asked the man as he eyed Billy. "Another wastelander?" But he halted the question when he recognized the blue jumpsuit he was wearing, and also noticed that it was stained with crimson.

"A new friend from Vault 101 actually. Turns out this young man came out of the vault and immediately wiped out one of the gangs rummaging through Springvale." said Billy as he leaned against the wall of the now closed restaurant Billy had called the Brass Lantern. "By the way Lucas, this is John. John, this is Sheriff Lucas Simms."

"Good to meet you Sheriff." greeted John as he held out his hand.

Simms looked at his hand, then back up at the young man's face, as if trying to read him. Finally, he took his hand and shook it. "Good to meet you too John." he said, locking his eyes onto the vault dweller's own. "He said you took a gang out over in Springvale, is that true?" John nodded. "Glad to hear it. Our eagle-eye has had to send them packing a few times. But that leaves us at an impasse."

"How do you figure?" asked John, who was currently not a fan of the sheriff's tone.

"Because, that either makes you a friend, or an enemy. And I'd like to get those details out of the way right now." he said. His voice was not hostile by any means, but also was he not friendly. More of a cold observer than anything else.

"And how does killing raiders make me your enemy?" he asked, his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face. Not even a single night in the town and he had already been interrogated twice.

Lucas smiled grimly. "Because, raiders kill other raiders too. That doesn't make them my friends." responded the Sheriff as he crossed his arms in response. "And if you took out their whole group, it means that you know how to kill pretty damn good. So, given that I have a lot of innocent people here to protect, I need to know now what kind of person you are."

Never losing his annoyed look, John retorted, "I'm not the kind to start randomly firing at strangers if that's what you're implying. Everything I have I either took from those raiders or brought with me."

Lucas stared at John for a long moment before Billy spoke up. "I'm gonna have to vouch for him myself. When he walked up to us outside, he had his weapon ready. If he was going to kill us and steal our stuff, he had plenty of opportunity."

The sheriff smiled as he turned to John again. "Well then, it's good to have you here. Keep doing work like you're doing, and we'll be friends in no time." he said as tipped his cowboy style hat in a small gesture of thanks. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

"Sheriff..." said the vault dweller nervously. Lucas turned to him, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was wondering, early this morning, my father left the vault as well. I don't know if he came this way, but I was wondering if you had seen another wearing one of these pass through here." he inquired as he tapped the breast of his jumpsuit.

"I'm afraid not son. A lot of people come through here on a daily basis. Some stay, some go. But not all of them I get to meet. However, if you're going to ask around, I can save you some time by telling you to head to Moriarty's Saloon up on the upper levels. If your dad needed any information, he'd have stopped by there." he said. Then he patted the vault dweller on the shoulder and walked off into the darkness.

"He's right. If your dad came by looking for information, then he'd be directed there. And if I were stuffed in a vault for as long as him, that's the first thing I'd be looking for out here." said Billy as he patted John on the back. "Thanks again for the water. Hope you find what you're looking for."

John nodded with a smile, running his hand through his brown hair that tended to naturally spike backwards. "No problem. You'll have to introduce me to Maggie one day. It's a shame she was already asleep" he said. Billy nodded, then the two went their separate ways. John climbed the walkways once more until he reached the familiar saloon, then opened the door and went inside.

"Hello again sugar." greeted the female who sat beside the bar. He looked at her and smiled, not used to being stared at by women the way she was. Amata had always looked at him with tender caringness. Nova, however, smiled back with a very vixen like grin, one he wasn't too familiar with the meaning of.

The man behind the bar, if he could be called that, was named Gob. He stood taller than John by almost half a foot, but was shorter on account of his massive slouch. His skin was...gone. Or, mostly gone. Some places showed nothing but the facial muscles underneath, while other spots had patches of skin that looked as if they were slowly peeling off. The only sign of hair he had was a small tuft that grew from an even smaller patch of skin left on his ravaged scalp.

Despite his grisly appearance, his eyes told a story of friendliness, of sorrow, and of someone who didn't deserve his situation. "What'll it be?" asked Gob in a friendly enough tone. Before being introduced to him, Billy had warned John ahead of time about ghouls. The young man had to say he was thankful, as without warning, he would have likely run terrified out of the saloon.

"Is Moriarty available? I have some questions for him." he asked, drumming his fingers on the counter. He didn't realize how nervous he was that his father might not have come to this saloon, or town at all.

"Sorry hun, but he's out like a light for tonight. If you'd like, you can get a room and talk to him in the morning." said the red-headed woman, her voice rather suggestive as a coy smile played across her face.

He sighed heavily, the knot in his stomach clenching unbearably. "Alright...if that's all I can do. How much is it for a room?" he asked, pulling his ruck up onto one of the stools. Immediately, he noticed that nearly every eye in the room, aside from Gob's, who were on him, and Nova's, whose were "on him" were aimed at the stuffed pack.

Gob, who was in the middle of recapping a beer bottle, looked up at the young man. "It's usually 120 caps per night. But I'll tell you what. You seem like a nice kid, and you didn't gasp in horror the first time you saw me, I'll give you a discount. Just don't go telling Moriarty about it." he said quietly to John in his gravelly voice.

John smiled slightly, nervously aware of the people staring at his supplies. "That'd be great. Thanks." he whispered to Gob. Rummaging through his bag, he cracked the lunchbox and pulled out their agreed upon price, keeping the box inside to make sure that nobody knew exactly how much money he had. After paying the ghoul across the counter, he shouldered his gear and went to the room which the bartender had pointed out.

After closing the door behind himself, he placed the large pack, along with all the guns he had acquired on the opposite side of the bed from the door. Billy had been very kind to him, but had warned him ahead of time that things outside the vault worked very different. Instead of working together to make a better whole, most of the people in the wasteland found it easier to just steal and kill. So, with a certain paranoia surrounding him, he made sure that all of his firearms were within reach should anyone try to sneak in at night. Laying them all along the wall and within easy grasping distance, he took the drone off his bag and sat heavily on the bed, eyeing the small robot.

He'd never made an alteration to a robot like he was planning for this one. To make it work, he'd have to shift some parts around and redistribute some of the weight so that it didn't fall face first every time it lifted off. On top of that, if he did have to add extra weight to counterbalance the new face, then that would require him to increase the output to the stabilizing jet that allowed it to float. Otherwise, it wouldn't even be able to lift off.

As all the numbers ran through his head, the door behind him creaked open again. Immediately, he grabbed one of the pistols close by and aimed at at the door. But Nova raised her hands defensively, making him lower the weapon. "Easy cowboy." she said with a friendly smile. He set the gun down and and instead continued staring at the robot in his hands.

"Can I help you with something?" Despite trying to focus on the bullet hole, he couldn't help his eyes slipping back towards her. She had an unkempt mop of ginger hair, that despite its mussed appearance, worked well with how she dressed. Her clothes had smacked him in the face as soon as he entered the tavern. Back in the vault, the women never dressed provocatively like she was now. The only thing he had ever seen that could compare was a magazine that Butch had showed off to his buddies.

Her shirt was cut short, leaving her flat stomach exposed to the world. And while she was fully covered, it didn't leave much to the imagination as far as her bust went. The fabric was tight, and low cut enough that anytime she bent forward, the cleavage of her large bosom pressed against the edges and bulged further, giving onlookers a clear shot of her goods. The sleeves of the shirt were the only thing that wasn't tight about it, each one billowed and draping off her arms like she was a smoke dancer. And the only thing that she wore below the belt was a tiny pair of jean shorts that exposed her miles of legs, wide hips, and firm behind. Realizing that he'd been staring longer than he should have, he finally looked back at the robot.

The woman walked forward slowly and sat with him on the bed, eyeing the curious machine with him. "I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry for everything that's happened to you so far. I know that today has been probably the most chaotic day of your life." she said sympathetically. Despite his surprise that anyone out here could give a damn about another person, he kept a straight face.

"That's putting it lightly. Before today, the most exciting thing to ever happen to me was when I got into a fist fight with a group of gangers who wouldn't leave Amata alone." he said, chuckling as he realized how much he longed for another brawl with that idiot Butch.

"And Amata is?" she asked curiously, scooting closer to the young man. At her question, he seemed to sink deep in thought, making him oblivious to her movements.

"The Overseer's daughter. She was my best friend." he said, rubbing his forehead lightly with one hand. Remembering her face, and Butch's stupid grin made him feel an immediate wave of homesickness. Not for the vault per se, but for his friends. Even the leader of the Tunnel Snakes had loosened up as they got older, allowing for a lasting peace between all of them.

"Was she your girlfriend?" Nova asked as she propped herself up behind him and began to rub his bare shoulders, her hands appreciating every inch of his musculature that they could.

"Girlfriend? Like, were we going steady?" he asked for clarification. The woman, hearing the very archaic terminology just laughed and nodded. He stared at the floor silently as he recalled their parting at the gate. "She was..." he said, his face now a grim look of ire. Despite his annoyance, he began groaning in pleasure as she found a sore spot and worked out the tiredness.

Not stopping her gentle application of pressure, she eyed him curiously, the statement giving her the go ahead to reach in front of him and gently begin to unzip the jumpsuit that he wore. "Was?" she asked for clarification, grinning at the fact that he wasn't stopping her.

"We...parted at the door." he said in a tone that suggested he was tired of the subject.

"Shame." was all she said in response as she pulled the top of the jumpsuit off him, then wrapped her arms around his pale torso, her small hands sliding gently up his shirt to feel his bare skin. She then leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing down his neck and sending goosebumps all over his skin. It wasn't long before he was leaning back into her as well, his hands sliding along her bare legs that were on either side of him. "Want me to stay the night with you? Keep your mind off your crazy day?" she asked seductively into his ear.

He opened his eyes, knowing what she was really asking. Despite his urge to suppress the memory, her face popped up in his head again. He stared at Amata in his mind as if she were right in front of him, and she stared at him. This time, he pulled away. "Yeah...I think I'd like that."


	4. Dealing with Locals

OoO( 4 )OoO

That morning, the young man awoke, but didn't open his eyes immediately. It was a typical reflex from living with a man who was a night owl through and through. At random times when he woke up in the vault, his father would already have the lights on and be hard at work on his terminal, or talking to patients. This resulted in a disgruntling groan as the light stabbed through his tiredness and woke him immediately out of his sleepy state.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, only to find darkness. Slightly surprised, he tried to move, and found that someone was laying on top of him. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back. The escape, the raiders, and Megaton. He flopped back into his flattened pillow as he sighed heavily. Despite all of those things being real, Nova was too. He could feel the weight of her head on his chest, and her arm over his stomach as she continued to sleep without him.

Smiling slightly, he remembered the previous night. After the awkward talk about caps and having to pay for her company, she beamed happily at him. Tossing the small stash of caps on the dresser as if it were just an afterthought, she practically bulldozed into him and opened a universe of possibility that he never knew about. He'd had a taste back in the vault, when he and Amata explored one another intimately. But he never knew what lay just beneath the surface, what his body was crying for every time he saw Amata's bra, or when he accidentally saw Christie in her underwear after she'd gotten into her father's alcohol.

Most of that was thanks to his father. The man was a doctor, so any explanation related to the sex topic was practically word for word from a data file. So cold and scientific that humans reproducing by flinging spores at one another sounded more romantic. The only clue he had was his time with Amata, and his comic books, where the romance was so passionate that it seemed almost mythical. But that illusion was shattered last night.

The educational videos in the vault told the young men and women of Mister Brotch's class that prostitution was a profession, and shouldn't be chosen over a true relationship with one of their peers. Something about it meaning more, being more fulfilling, and more satisfying. But that couldn't have been any less false than what he experienced last night. Despite the very 'cold and businesslike approach' that the videos preached, Nova lit up the world for him. He didn't know if she was this enthusiastic with all of her customers, or if he was some special case. But he was forever grateful for her assistance in getting his mind off the nightmare of yesterday.

Staring down in the darkness to her naked, busty silhouette, he gently ran his hand through her short, red locks and down to the bare skin of her back. He was pretty sure that she was older than him, though she refused to say how much so in one of their breaks the night previous. Even so, he was still slightly taller than her, easily allowing him to reach down to her bare, curvy hip and start running his fingers over the soft skin.

At his gentle touch, the fiery woman awoke and purred gently into his pale chest. "Mmmm...good morning stud."

He smiled gently and leaned his head back against the rickety headboard of the bed, his hand continuing its exploration of her sultry curves. "Morning."

But she wasn't having any of it, and smacked his hand playfully before sitting up in the bed. The room was still dark, but the sun was starting to shine through some of the cracks in the imperfect structure of the wall, giving him a clean view of all of her assets as she stretched. "Sorry champ. If we're going to go again, I need some coffee, a cigarette, and we need to take care of business." she said in a playful tone.

Her statement reminded him of something else she had taught him last night. Looking over at the small stand next to the bed, he saw the pack of cigarettes that she had given him. On top of the Overseer preaching about their relationships, he had also had an anti-drug video that taught them about carcinogens, as well as the stronger drugs like hallucinogens, inhalants, opioids, and amphetamines. When he was in the vault, he rolled his eyes at the educational material, asking himself who would be stupid enough to subject themselves to such things.

But, ever the teacher, Nova taught him that while in the vault, he had a high life expectancy, and would likely live to see the results of such poor choices. But out here, his chances of survival dropped immensely. "We're all on our way to death's door kid. No point in not enjoying the trip there." And the thought resonated in his head. So he tried it, and hated it. But he kept trying it until it became tolerable, giving Nova a break from both their physical activity, as well as conversation as he tried to regulate his breathing again and stop the coughing.

Now, he could tolerate it, and even somewhat enjoyed the calming sense that it gave him. Reaching over, he picked the box up and pulled one out for both of them, before lighting it and breathed in the smoke. It still did weird things to him, but he could deal with it now. Exhaling the smoke heavily, he stood and stretched his sore muscles.

This time, it was Nova's turn to stare. She didn't know what kind of intense workout he had gone through in the vault, but she certainly appreciated the toned body that it had given him. He wasn't bulging with muscle by any measure, but he looked like he was a figure carved out of pale wood. She admired him, with his delicate, undamaged skin thanks to the artificial lights within the vault. Even without the full light of the sun shining in the room, she could still see the shadowing of his muscle, and was already looking forward to another night with him. As she was staring, the young man picked up his Vault 101 branded jumpsuit and sighed heavily. Cocking an eyebrow, she asked, "Something wrong sugar?"

"Ugh..." was all he managed before throwing the torn suit onto the bed. The previously flawless cloth was now marred by a long slash of red down the center, and the arm had a bullet hole through it that had torn even wider sometime during the fight with the raiders. "I don't think I can wear that and walk outside. People will look at me and start running."

Nova started laughing gently. "Probably." she said as she took another puff from her cigarette. "Looks like you need to go shopping." she remarked before starting to gather her own clothes.

"I didn't have much room for a planned trip when I left. I grabbed what was necessary and ran. Clothes weren't on that list unfortunately" he said in irritation as he plopped down on the bed.

"So, that was your only jumpsuit?" she asked curiously, getting a nod from him. "Well, you could just stay in here and keep me all to yourself for the rest of your life." she said, giving him an innocent smile.

He just glared at her as he released another cloud of the toxic smoke from his nostrils. "You're not helping..."

She giggled again, then smashed out the clover and began to slip her own clothes on. When she finished, she opened the door to the room. "I'll be right back. Just sit right here and wait for me." she commanded as she closed the door behind her. He cocked his eyebrow at her exit, but just sat on the bed and finished his clover. After a few minutes, he realized she wasn't just running to the girls room and decided to examine the small drone he had picked up the previous night. Turning to his bedside table again, he grabbed a knife and began to undo the seals around the edges of the small sphere that were holding the speaker in place.

Once he finally pried the destroyed device from the robot's face, he reached back for his ruck of parts, but stopped as the door opened once more. Nova walked in with several layers of clothing over her arm and shut the door behind her. Turning to him, she saw the curious bot and eyed it oddly before finally tossing the clothing at him. "There you go sugar." she said, smiling as he set the device aside and picked up one of the jumpsuits that she had thrown at him. There were a total of three, and all matched with a slate grey color.

"Where exactly did you get these?" he asked, looking at her with a curious eye.

"What's it matter? Just put them on." she commanded, flapping her hands at him as she stood with her back to the door, watching him hungrily. Grabbing his shirt, he pulled it on over his head, then took one of the jumpsuits and began dressing. Sliding his legs in, he started zipping it up until finally he was fully encased in the new outfit.

Surprised that it fit so well, he began to flex his arms and legs to make sure nothing was too tight at the edges. "These are surprisingly comfortable." he remarked, then looked down at the patch over the right breast. "Moira?" he asked as he tore the patch clean from the suit.

Nova nodded and gave him a gorgeous smile. "I know you're probably used to wearing jumpsuits, and she just happens to have like...six spares. So I thought I'd...get a few from her." remarked the woman as she watched him sit on the bed and start putting his boots on.

Crossing his arms, he stared at her curiously. "And she just gave it to you?" he questioned, wondering if he wasn't getting the whole story.

As if to mimic him, she crossed her own arms under her bosom, with an annoyed look on her face. "Don't worry about it." she ordered, a slight growl in her voice.

He chuckled and nodded to her. "Alright alright." he conceded as he finished tying his other boot, then stood to his full height. Despite being inside, he still felt his skin itch. He then realized that he'd need a shower soon. "Who is this Moira anyway?"

"She's the owner of Craterside Supply. It's the only surplus store within miles of this place. So if you want to get rid of some of your excess weight there..." she said, nodding towards the guns beside the bed. "She's the one to take them to."

Nodding, he started to gather the weapons and lay them out on the bed. "That's not a bad idea. Most of them would just weigh me down." Looking back up to her, he asked, "By the way, is Moriarty in yet?"

She shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, I'm not sure sugar. I went straight to Craterside and back. Didn't think to stop and ask." Despite her not knowing, he got the sense from her tone that he wasn't in for great news when he left.

"That's alright, I'm heading out there anyway. I'll stop by and find out." he finished as he took enough caps for supplies for later. Despite the tour Billy had given him on the previous night, he still wanted to see what the glorious Megaton looked light in broad daylight. Previously, he had seen the city in shadows, a very sinister scene with the bomb at the dead center.

She smiled and opened the door. "Alright hun. See you tonight, hopefully." she chimed before winking at him, then closed the door behind her as she headed into the saloon.

He looked back at the guns he had just laid out on the bed and decided that he needed to choose what he wanted to keep and what he wanted to sell. Lugging all of them around, while well prepared, left him extremely worn out and unable to react quickly in case he were ambushed by more raiders. Examining each of them, he first decided that the 10mm that Amata had given him was staying.

The assault rifle had done him very well thus far, and he liked having something that he could reliably spray fire with, upping his chance of hitting something while behind cover, so it was staying as well. Last night during one of their breaks, he had consolidated all the weapons' ammo into magazines that were now placed in his ruck, leaving the weapons bare. Along with the pistol and assault rifle, he had collected an entire collection of different knives, a claw hammer, three .32 caliber revolvers, two other 10mm pistols, a 10mm sub-machine gun, a hunting rifle, and a double-barreled shotgun. He sighed to himself as he looked at the collection.

"I don't think this is what dad had in mind when he was teaching me to shoot..." he complained as he tossed the .32 caliber pistols into his ruck for hocking. One of the other 10mm pistols, the submachine gun, all of the knives, and the double barreled shotgun went into the bag as well. The hammer he picked up and looked at briefly before throwing it behind him. "Barbarians..."

Picking his baton and pistol up from his pillow, he stashed the baton in the belt that he had saved from his vault jumpsuit, allowing it to be hidden from sight whenever his rucksack was on his back. The utilitarian belt had many pockets and compartments, as well as snaps and small securing hooks to allow things like tools to hang from your sides. He placed both of the pistols he was keeping into leg mounted harnesses that were be built into the new jumpsuit, then slid the automatic rifle over his head, the strap allowing it to stay firmly against his back once adjusted. Finally, the hunting rifle, a weapon kept in case he needed a weapon to take things out at a distance, he strapped to his ruck.

Picking up the rather heavy rucksack, he kicked the door to the room open and walked out into the saloon, where he was greeted by an appreciative whistle. Looking over, he saw Nova staring at him admiringly. "Looks like that new jumpsuit works for you." she said smiling. "You going to win a war somewhere?" she asked.

He chuckled at her as he approached the bar. "Hopefully not. I don't really like using these more than necessary." he said as he eyed the ghoul across the bar from him. Finally, Gob looked up from where he was cleaning the bar.

"Damn kid, packing up to take out more raiders?" he asked, his usual warbling voice now sporting a lighthearted chuckle.

"'Fraid not Gob. What I am ready to do is talk to Moriarty. Is he around yet?" asked the young man eagerly. It had been the first thing on his to do list today, and he intended to do it. But from the worried expression on Gob's face, he figured he wasn't about to cross that off just yet.

"Uhh...sorry boss. He left this morning before Nova came out. I tried to tell him you wanted to see him, but he said if I talked to him again while he had a hangover he was going to remove what was left of my skin and feed it to me." said the ghoul as he looked down at the bar submissively. The worst part of this situation to John was that he couldn't tell whether Gob was reacting to the memory of Moriarty's threat, or he thought the vault dweller was going to attack him for it.

He just sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Gob, I'm not going to hit you."

"O-Oh...thanks..." said the ghoul as he stopped cringing. "So used to people throwing beer bottles at the first sign of bad news." he said in a morose tone.

"And Moriarty allows this?" asked John curiously, his anger simmering lightly as he tapped his fingers on the bar.

"Of course not. Each bottle thrown is one less he can sell back to them later." said the ghoul matter-of-factly. The irritation on John's face must have been extremely apparent. "You alright kid? You look like you'd like to chuck some yourself."

He snorted. "Yeah, right at Moriarty..." he said under his breath. Turning back to Gob, he asked, "Did he say when he would be back?"

Gob shook his head mournfully. "No, but he was going to have a talk with one of his suppliers. That kind of thing usually takes days."

John just smiled and nodded. "Thanks Gob, appreciate it." he said and headed for the door. "You two watch my room for me. If anyone goes near it, come get me." he said, getting a nod from the woman and the ghoul. Opening the door, he stepped out into the sunlight, and again had to cover his eyes as the blaring sun jabbed at him. The going was slow along the walkways as he tried to remember where Billy took him to get to Craterside Supply, but he finally found the way and opened the door hastily to get out of the sun again.

Relief flooded him as the light of the sun vanished, and the half light of the store eased on his eyes. As his vision cleared of spots, he noticed that there were two people inside the shop. One, a short woman with muddy brown hair tied up in a bun on the back of her head, and wearing a matching jumpsuit to his. Currently, she was behind the counter of her store, hammering on something wildly with the head of a claw hammer. The other, from the looks of him, was likely some kind of bouncer. Automatic weapon on his back, thick hide armor from foot to throat, and a look that said he had much better things he'd rather be doing.

As the young man entered the store, the guard immediately stood up to his full height. The guns must have that effect on him a lot. "Take it easy, I'm here to buy and sell, not to cause trouble." John said to the guard, his heart picking up slightly at the aggression. The man, who had a small beard and matching, sandy blonde hair, just mean-mugged him and leaned back against the wall.

As soon as his voice was heard, the woman sprung up from behind the counter with a bright smile. "Oh! A new customer!" she said excitedly as she stood up straight behind the counter. "Hi there! What can I do fer ya?" she asked curiously in a very northerly accent. He hadn't heard words like that since one of the vault's Yule movies during the holidays.

John walked up to the counter and pulled the ruck off his back, then set it onto the counter. Taking the hunting rifle off the top of the bag, he held it away from himself so that the bouncer didn't get any crazy ideas. "Want some weapons?" he asked curiously. The young man had to keep from laughing as the woman's eyes almost sparkled.

"Oh boy! What kind?" she asked. He opened the rucksack and tipped it over on the counter, letting the assorted weapons spill out on the surface. The curious woman's eyes shined brightly as she saw the knives. "Ooohhh...I love knives." she said excitedly. John stared at her oddly as she took each knife and laid them in a neat row along the counter while the guns lay untouched.

"Are...you alright?" he asked with concern. He didn't want to assume drugs right off the bat, but it also wouldn't surprise him if the woman was swimming in chemicals.

She looked up at him, a questioning look on her face. Then she nodded. "Oh dontcha worry about little ol' me." she said, going back to her previous task. In a manner of minutes, all of the equipment he had laid out in front of her was in neat order in front of her. "So, ya wanna sell all these huh?" she asked, her eyes scanning over the lot, as if seeing them for the first time. He merely nodded. "I'll give ya a hundred caps for all the knives, and two hundred for the guns, given their state of repair." she said, smiling and planting her hands on her jumpsuited hips.

He just nodded. "That's fine. Do you repair weapons?" he asked, the last part of her statement egging at him.

She nodded. "Unless it's a melted pile of slag, I can repair it. Well...weapons that is. Can't do much on anything else." she said, looking to the side as if she were ashamed of her inability.

He smiled. "I'm good at repairing machinery, but I haven't had any experience in weapons. So I'll tell you what, just put the caps you gave me for these..." he said waving towards the weapons on the counter. "Into repairing these." he said, handing her the ruck sack. She took it with one hand and opened it up. He immediately took a step backwards, uncertain about the woman. Even with some of the guns gone from the bag, he still needed two hands to balance it. She just took it with one hand without a thought and began rummaging around inside it. While she was rummaging, he noticed a curious patch from her arm staring up at him. But before he could think much about it, she snapped the bag closed and set it aside.

"Alright, ya got yerself a deal." she said cheerfully.

He nodded nervously. "Alright...when should I be back?"

"Should be done by sundown. In the meantime, since yer a good repairman and all, Walter's been looking for a sidekick to help him in the water plant up top." she said, pointing towards the wall. "If'n yer looking for work that is…"

"Thanks...I guess I'll be here a while, so it wouldn't hurt to help out a bit." he said. "I'll just leave the ruck here with you since I'll see you later anyway. Thanks again!" he said waving as he left, getting an excited wave back. As he exited the door, he just shook his head. "Good to see cartoons aren't dead out here." he asked as his feet carried him up the ramp to the water plant.

OoOoO

Hours later, the sun began to set as John mapped out the entire settlement in his head. He had talked to Walter right after his visit to Craterside Supply, who was more than happy to have someone else aboard to help with the many pipe leaks around the town.

It had taken him a couple of hours to track down and fix all the leaks that were spraying water from the plant above into the dirt. As a reward for helping, Walter had let him keep the tools he had let him borrow for the task, on top of a handful of caps. When he had finished, John decided to use his spare time to actually get to know the people of the town. And not surprisingly, there were only a few people he didn't much care for. Jericho, the former raider whose mouth only stopped drinking to insult others, Andy Stahl was about as friendly and inviting as one of the dead trees outside the town, and though he was nice enough, he didn't like the vibe that Confessor Cromwell put off with his preaching.

Everyone else, he got along with swimmingly. Leo Stahl, a drug addict by Johns medical estimate, found out he was fresh out of the vault and offered to teach him how to pick locks, something the vault dweller found extremely interesting and caught onto quickly.

He also finally got to meet Maggie, Billy Creel's young adopted daughter. When he found them, they were crossing his path back to Moira's shop on the upper catwalks. He was signaled by Billy with a friendly wave as the pair stopped in front of him. "Hey! If it isn't our resident vault dweller!" said the man cheerily. "Well...you will be if you decide to stay anyway."

John chuckled at Billy's friendly nature and nodded. "I can't say I will for sure, but the place is nice enough. And it's good to sleep somewhere where I don't have to worry about being attacked in my sleep." remarked the young gunman as he looked down at the young girl standing next to the man. "And who is this?"

"This here is Maggie Montgomery. I told you about her last night." Billy replied as he grinned. Looking down at the young girl who couldn't have been more than ten years old, he nodded. "Say hello to John."

The girl looked from Billy to John, then smiled weakly. "Good to meet you mister." she said quietly, getting an odd look from the stranger.

"Sorry, she's really shy around strangers. To be honest, I prefer it that way." said Billy as he reached up and scratched his head gently.

"Understandable." commented John as he noted the girl's uniquely Asian features. She had hazel-colored eyes and pitch-black hair that fell to her shoulders in a straight curtain. Currently, she was wearing a short-sleeve t shirt with a familiar favorite of his on it, the Unbeatable Shebeast flexing her muscles with onomatopoeia stamped in comic book fashion all over the shirt. "You like comic books?" he asked curiously, watching as her disinterest in the conversation immediately evaporated and she looked up at him in surprise. Slowly, she nodded, making him smile widely. "Me too! Who's your favorite?"

Excitedly, the girl smiled back, showing that she had a large gap where one of her baby teeth had fallen out. "I like them all! But Grognak and Bionic Girl are the best!" she exclaimed happily.

"Very fine taste for one so young." said the young man as he knelt down in front of her. "How about this Maggie, if I find any comics when I'm out and about, I'll bring them back so we can read them. How's that sound?" he asked curiously. The young girl had a look of shock on her face at the offer, but answered his question by leaping forward and hugging him.

"That would be great!" she said, sounding as if she was going to start crying. He was startled by the act, but just reached up and patted her on her back gently. "Thank you Mister John…" she said almost sadly. Such a show of affection had startled him. He hadn't been hugged since he was a child, and feeling it now made him feel a pang of homesickness to the vault. But, he brushed it off and ruffled her hair gently. Pulling away, she held her arms behind her back nervously. "Sorry...there aren't many other kids in town. All they talk about is guns and throw rocks at each other."

"Ah...so you're just relieved to have someone else with similar interests?" he asked, getting a cheery nod from her. He just chuckled and nodded at the young girl. "Don't worry. I'm sure when they see the collection I get you, they'll be interested real quick." he exclaimed, earning a giggle from the young girl.

Billy was practically beaming at the encounter and leaned over to whisper to John while Maggie leaned against the rail to the walkway. "Don't worry man, I can pay you for the comics."

"They wouldn't be gifts then, would they?" he asked as he patted Billy on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it's not like there's some fat cat out there paying a million caps for them that I'd be missing out on. It's no inconvenience to me." he said reassuringly. Billy hesitated, then nodded, a smile of appreciation on his face.

It was about that time that John looked up and noticed that the sun had sunk past the walls, and the sky had faded from a bright blue to a darker lavender, as it does when it nears the horizon. As such, he bid the pair farewell, then headed back to Craterside to find Moira just as eager as before. She was sweeping the dirty floor of her shop when he entered, only looking up when the door closed again.

"Ah! There he is!" she said happily as she walked back behind the counter and presented him with not only his fully repaired weapons, but also a suspender harness and a set of leather armor with 101 already painted on it.

John was astounded as he looked at all of the new offerings, as well as the fully restored weapons. "Uhhh...thanks but...what's the occasion?" he asked, wondering if he should even ask. He didn't imagine gifts like this were given out freely in the wastes, and it might have been better for him to just take them and run.

"Well, as I was fixing yer weapons, I realized that you need weapons because yer eventually going back into the wasteland, right?" she asked, her head tilted slightly sideways as she stared at him curiously.

"Umm...eventually, yeah. Why?" he asked, his eyes wide as the odd woman continued to stare into his soul.

"Weeeell, I was kinda hoping maybe you could help me out with a project. A little tiny one." she said, holding her fingers up about an inch apart. He looked from her fingers to her smiling face and immediately grew suspicious.

"How tiny?" he asked, eyeing her warily and leaning against the counter.

"Well, ya see, I sorta need someone to go out into the wasteland for me to help me finish this project I'm doing called the Wasteland Survival Guide! It's an instruction manual on how to survive in the harsh wastes out there. But, the problem is, I'm running this store so often that I can't go out and do any research. And you're a smart guy yeah?" she asked, never losing her chipper tone.

"Something tells me the answer to that question will be determined by whether I agree to this or not..." he said grimly, wondering what the ditzy woman was conjuring up in her brain. "Look, cut to the chase for me, yeah? What are you wanting me to do?" he asked, leaning forward on the counter on his elbows.

She sighed and looked him straight in the eye with her best puppy expression. "First off, I need you to go to the Super Duper Mart. People need to know where they can and can't find food and medicine out there, and Super Duper Mart is likely a good spot to look for such things."\

He thought about it for a moment. "I guess it doesn't sound that hard...then again, there's no telling what I'll actually find out there." he said, then stood straight in surprise when she smacked the counter in excitement.

"That's what the armor is for! I even gave you some extra rounds to go with it." she said proudly. John reached up and scratched his head, unsure of what to say.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Moriarty isn't going to be back for a few days anyway, I guess it wouldn't kill me to take a look." he said, scratching his chin. "How much for supplies? And how do I find the place?" he asked.

"I can supply you for each trip myself with rations." she said, pulling up the small pack filled with edibles and water. "As for the location, it's off to the southeast. But I have something that should be able to help ya out." she said as she walked over to her terminal. He walked over and eyed her curiously. "So, I noticed that ya had a pipboy. I actually have a program on my terminal here that I got from Reilly, it's a program that allows you to place customizable markers where you wish. And it uses one of the old pre-war satellites up in the atmosphere to track your position along a grid that she created." she said excitedly.

He scratched his head, trying to wrap his head around the program. "So, as I walk, it tracks my movement across a map...so to speak?" he asked, getting a nod from her.

"Problem is, despite Reilly and her Rangers' best efforts, not much of the map is filled out. I managed to pay Jericho to go out and find the mart for me, but he chickened out and came back before examining the store. He said..." she said clearing her throat, then deepening it in a mocking imitation of the former raider. "You never know what the eff is inside those places! I go in there and I could never come out!" she said, giving a small cough as she finished.

John, despite his best efforts, couldn't help but laugh at the cheerful woman's mockery of the hardass former raider. Moira just smiled as the vault dweller recovered. "Alright, you've got a deal. But it's too late tonight. I'll go out tomorrow." he said as he gathered all the gear into the ruck. With her enthusiastic assistance, he put on the armor, which was surprisingly light given how thick it looked.

Before he left, he spotted a pair of tinted goggles strapped to the head of a mannequin. "Uhh...how much for those?" he asked curiously. But the woman just snatched them off the wooden figure's head and shoved them at him.

"All yours! Now go! Shoo!" she said, practically pushing him out the door in her excitement.

He headed back to his room in the saloon and shifted some of the gear in the ruck around, making sure to take only what he needed for the trip. When he finished packing everything up and donning his equipment, he flopped on the bed and lit another cigarette, thinking about their conversation. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright, smoke shooting from his nose. "What the hell did she mean 'each trip?'"


	5. Shopping with Raiders

OoO( 5 )OoO

Sleeping for his big journey to the supermarket tomorrow was especially difficult when there was a naked, attractive, woman in the room. Despite her enthusiasm however, he still managed to get enough sleep to be up at dawn. Dressing in one of the jumpsuits the redhead had given him, he tied on his boots, then started to don the armor piece by piece. When Nova awoke, she helped him reach some of the harder to reach places until he was fully decked out in his hardened leather armor. It likely wouldn't stop bullets, but it did wonders against typical melee weapons and raiders themselves if they got their hands on him.

When he exited the saloon with his weapons in their holsters, his ruck on his back, and well wishes from both Gob and Nova, it was still dark out. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, and the sky was blanketed with countless stars. Reaching down, he grabbed the straps on the ruck and tightened them to fit his form now that it wasn't so crammed full of weapons. Once he was comfortable, he set off out the gates of Megaton and into the wasteland once more.

Several hours went by at a grueling pace. Despite him being relatively in-shape, he was still unused to walking around as much as he had in the last few days. Not to mention each step onto the earth resulted in a cloud of radioactive sand and dust exploding into the air, making it even harder to breath. Over the last few days, he had gotten used to the inhalation of smoke, a supposed gift from Nova. Despite that, the dervish that swirled around him constantly was making travelling difficult. On top of the environment, he felt his arm aching once more from the round that had punched through his arm from one of the officers he'd had to shoot through to get out of the vault. Quickly, he drew a small dose of Med-X out of his belt and gave it to him to help fight the growing pain. Once it had taken effect, the going was much easier, even with the sun in the sky and the heat washing over him.

Before long, he stepped up onto the crest of a hill and saw the supermarket with SUP R D PE MAR in giant, electronic letters that had blasted out hundreds of years ago. However, the lettering on the front of the store was the last thing he was thinking about. As he scanned the front of the grocer, he felt his stomach lurch at the decorations placed there by the new residents. From chains and hooks hung dozens of body parts, from arms and legs, to full torsos, to a full body minus the head. All of them were hooked into the chains and hung up from the front of the shop like some kind of demonic holiday tinsel.

And he didn't have for to look for the heads either. On top of the overhang that the body parts were dangling from, were spears fashioned from wood and metal, each one of them with a severed, rotting head spiked onto it as well. Immediately, he crouched down and removed the goggles from his eyes, then used both hands to try and wipe the image clean. But it wasn't going anywhere, and neither was he. After a minute of just basking in the sun with the image of humanity's most depraved show of dominance still in his mind, he reached into his bag and grabbed a bottle of water. Before drinking, she spit into the sand at his feet to try and clear his mouth of dust, then took a long sip. As he gulped it down and put the cap back on the bottle, he slipped the goggles back on and looked up at the blazing ball in the sky.

When he had arrived, the sun had already past its zenith and was sinking back towards the opposing horizon. Hew knew he didn't have much time before darkness took the land again, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to travel that distance at night given the crazy kinds of creatures he'd heard about from the saloon. But from the sun's position, it didn't look like he was going to have a choice in the matter. But all thoughts of return were slapped from his mind when the sound of gunfire echoed over the ridge. Crouching down, he kept his head low in case he was the target of the shooter's fire. But none of the bullets seemed to be hitting the ridge, and from the yells of the men below, he had a pretty clear idea of what was going on.

Flipping onto his stomach, he grabbed his long range hunting rifle and crawled up towards the edge of the small cliff, then peeked over at the ensuing battle below. From all appearances, it looked like there were three men, likely raiders given the ragtag armor they wore, shooting at the same kind of buzzing, musical drone that he'd found in Springvale. "Get that fucking drone! We've got another spear for it!" shouted the closest one to the machine as he started firing on it with an assault rifle. The spherical robot responded by firing lancing beams of light directly in the man's direction, but given the odds, it wasn't looking like the floating radio was in for a win.

Unsure if it would call the drone's wrath, but knowing that he wouldn't have a better opportunity to take out the three hollering men, he aimed his rifle down at the parking lot and looked down the sights. Each time he'd had to aim a weapon, his father's words echoed in his head. This time was no different, and he repeated them verbatim. "Aim...breath...squeeze." he whispered as he sighted one of the men, drew in his breath and held it, then squeezed the trigger instead of pulling. The rifle roared, sending an echoing shot across the parking lot that surprised the raiders.

Two of the men froze and began looking around frantically while one reached up and touched a gaping bullet hole that had just emerged from his gut. Falling over, the man died, and his two friends began frantically rushed to his side. They saw the wound and the blood pooling from it around his body, then raised their weapons as they began to look for the shooter. But another immediately went down when a beam of energy pierced his skull and left a circular hole through it, making him collapse next to his downed friend.

When the last of the trio realized he was alone, he immediately began sprinting towards the store as more laser fire was aimed in his direction. "Oh no you don't..." John whispered to himself as he looked down the iron sight again. He exhaled deeply, then squeezed the trigger, sending a second bullet smashing into the man's leg, shattering his knee and bouncing off the destroyed pavement below. The crazed man screamed as he fell, clutching his now destroyed leg. But his cries were short lived, as the eyebot caught up with him and silenced him with a barrage of plasmatic death.

After the psychotic gunner fell, John pulled his eyes away from the sights of the weapon and waited, watching the entire lot in his peripheral vision. If anything, he wasn't stupid enough to believe that these men were the only ones occupying the shop. There were likely more inside than there were out here, and he didn't want to just run down and potentially end his quest early with a round to the heart. So he waited for what felt like hours, watching and drinking what was left from the bottle. The drone had gone back to drifting lazily around the shattered concrete lot, playing its patriotic music speaking with the voice of a man who was supposedly the president of America. But if anything, it sounded like old recordings left on loop after the bombs had fallen.

Finally, with the sun still moving in the sky, he stood up from his perch and took a small detour to get down the cliff, then emerged through a torn chain-link fence into the parking lot. His first action was to raise his hands high as the drone hovered near him, but it showed no threatening movements, so he continued to walk towards the bodies. Looking down at the dead men, he hardened his eyes, then grabbed their weapons. There were enough people in this world already who he felt sorry for. He certainly wasn't going to waste any more tears on the blight of humanity.

When he'd cleaned them of their belongings, he came up with another assault rifle, a sawed-off shotgun, and another 10mm pistol for guns. The other belongings they had amounted to about fifty caps between them, an incendiary grenade, and a fairly dinged up machete. Taking all the goods off the the side, he stashed them away in his ruck, while attaching the blade to the top of the bag and clipping the grenade onto his belt.

Finally, he was ready to enter. But he knew to do so he'd have to walk past the sun-baked corpses hanging from the store's overhang. Already his stomach churned at the thought. But he knew this wasn't where he was stopping. If he was going to find his father, he needed caps, he needed guns, he needed armor, and he needed help. And so far, the most helpful person in the walled city had been Moira, who offered him supplies and payment quid pro quo for his assistance with her book.

So, locking his jaw and covering his nose and mouth with a leather-gloved hand, he marched past the bodies and up to the door of the grocer. His forest green eyes never left the door, as any deviation towards the remains would likely make his stomach explode all over the pavement. Once he was finally past the ugly display, he slowly opened the door and silently slipped inside as the sun finally touched the opposing horizon.

Once inside, he immediately realized why nobody had come outside to the sound of gunfire. The walls of the story were several feet of thick concrete, and where the display windows used to be was a giant metal door similar to the emergency shutters they had back in the vault. It was soundproof, praised by Vault-Tec in its day as blast proof, and even rumored to be vibration proof. But that was all conjecture considering they could never test them to make sure.

Given the build of the store, John couldn't imagine it was built long before the bombs fell. During the Great War that heralded the supposed end of humanity, many shops, stores, and businesses invested in making their properties as resistant to invasion and destruction as possible. As such, any gunfire outside likely wouldn't have made it through at all. Thanking his luck, he entered the small room that still held a few shopping carts and pressed himself against the wall on the opposite side next to the door.

The door he was now standing next to led into the main store, and would likely be where the main bulk of the raiders were at. Reaching up, he pulled the goggles onto his head again and barely peaked around the concrete doorway.

Unfortunately, he didn't like what he was seeing. They outnumbered him at least ten to one. Four sentries were walking along the top of the large store shelves, scanning through the aisles for anything unusual, while two more were behind a counter at the back. The rest just walked between the aisles with looks on their face like they wanted to find trouble. He sighed, wondering how exactly he was going to clear the place out. It wouldn't be as easy as setting a distraction outside. As dumb as they were, they likely weren't stupid enough to go chasing after spirits while he cleaned their stash out.

As he was contemplating however, one of the sentries diverted, walking to a shelf off to the west, and leaving the ground walker by himself. He eyed the man curiously, biting his lip as a plan formed in his head. There were many things that could go wrong, but this situation didn't really have a perfect answer. He'd have to improvise on the fly if something went off the rails. But finally, he settled on a plan of attack. Unshouldering the rucksack gently, he set it down as quietly as possible. Opening the top of the pack, he dug through the supplies, found what he needed, then sealed it off again. Taking it with would be too cumbersome, so he pocketed the goods and drew the baton from his back as he stepped into the store.

The odd character he had chosen for his target stood taller than anyone he'd ever met. He was bulky and wide shouldered, only adding to that appearance with a set of shoulder pads that looked like they were made for an old school sports team. Under the shoulder pads, he had a belt lashed across his chest that went all the way down to an odd looking leather kilt that he wore. Despite his odd attire, the man looked psychotic. Every hair on his body looked gone, and when he turned his head to look down one of the allies, red face paint could be clearly seen smeared over the man's face in wide, handprint shaped swathes.

Given the man's movement patterns over the last few minutes, he was likely going to be coming back this way soon. But if the pattern held true, he wouldn't reach John's position before turning to walk back again. Counting on this pattern to hold, the young gunman held his breath as he heard the man's steps heading towards him once more. Closer and closer they got, one after the other as the raider mumbled in anger. "Dozer better get his shampoo drinkin' ass back out here or I'm gunning him down the next time I see him." Finally, he stopped, then spit at even having to say the man's name, and turned around again.

"That's bad manners you know." said a voice behind him. The man's eyes widened, and he felt his entire core go cold as he heard the voice. But he spun and reached for the shotgun on his back anyway, ready to kill whoever was stupid enough to spook him. However, he was cut short when a metal rod slammed into his stomach, blasting the wind out of his lungs. But the worst of the damage to come was when his body went rigid as waves of electricity began to surge through his muscles. He felt his body contracting horribly as his attacker just stood, staring at him with the rod pressed to his chest. Finally, the stimulation became too much, and he fell forward as his mind blacked out.

John tried to catch the man as he fell, and managed to lay him down without much more noise. Once the raider was flat on his back, the young man went ahead and pulled the shotgun and extra ammo off him, stashing them in a pouch, then pulled his little playing field leveler off of the side of his utility belt. The grenade was a bit slimmer than the old school kind, which looked like an army green pinecone. This one, instead, was triggered by a button on the top that stayed sunken into the grenade and inaccessible until the other safety, a small pin with a loop at the end, was released.

Taking the pin, he pulled it loose and tossed it aside as the button on top of the weapon popped up and started flashing. Lifting the raiders head, he set the grenade straight up, making sure that it wasn't going to slide, then set the man's head directly down onto the button. Like the previous grenades, this model, just known as the Battery Bomb for its particular look, required for its trigger to be released before a detonation could occur. And with everything set up how he planned, the only thing preventing a teeth rattling explosion and shower of hot metal was the bald raider's head holding the detonator down.

Finally, John yelled loudly in a fake cry of anguish before he slithered off behind the front entrance wall again. The cry drew attention from all of the raiders within the main store area, and as he hid behind the wall once again, he heard the trampling footsteps of the man's many allies coming to the rescue. Once all the footsteps stopped, he risked a quick peek at the group. He couldn't tell if all of them were there, but there was certainly a large group gathered around their fallen comrade.

"What the hell happened?" asked one of the other men as he scratched his unshaven face..

"No idea, he was just like this when I got over here." said another man who was perched atop one of the shelves like a gargoyle. "Wake his ass up and ask him, if he's still alive." said the raider as he watched the others like a hawk with his assault rifle across his lap.

The girl of the group glared at the others and leaned down. "Hey cue ball. Wake the fuck up, you're not off shift yet." she said as she kicked him in the side. No response from the raider. "You think he's actually dead?"

"I don't see no bullet holes." said one of the other raiders who was crouched next to his body. "Didn't hear no guns neither."

The woman growled, then knelt down and slapped him in the face. "Wake up lazy ass!" But her voice immediately caught in her throat as she saw his head fall to the side, and a grenade roll out from under him. Her eyes locked onto the glowing button on top, noting that it was solid red. "Mother of fucking shi-"

All the shelves in the store shook as an explosion tore the group apart. The detonation killed those immediately around the body, and the rest were ripped apart by fire and shrapnel, sending bodies and limbs flying throughout the store. The blast from the grenade immediately blew the shelves apart and devoured them with fire, leaving flames nearly up to the ceiling.

One of the raiders from behind the counter had been blasted backwards, but he growled, drawing his pistol and leaping over the flat surface. Looking around for the perpetrator, he never saw through the flames as John stepped up with his new double-barreled shotgun. Pulling the trigger, the gun jerked backwards and slammed into the young man's chest, nearly driving the wind from his lungs as he fell on his behind. But the shot had found its mark, and the raider went down, falling into the flames that had cloaked his adversary.

Rubbing the spot in the armor that had taken the blow from the buttstock, John groaned and got back to his feet. When he did, another figure ran out from the bathrooms off to the side, shouting as he did. "What the fuck is going on!?" asked the bewildered man as he attempted to pull his pants up. But he froze in horror at the sight before him. Bodies and fire everywhere, all of the men and women he used to know and tolerate were now looking up at him through lifeless eyes. Those that still had eyes that was. The rest burned as fire tore at their skin, charring their faces as black as volcanic as, making them look like wailing souls of the damned.

But the raider stopped looking at them as he saw something move. Looking up through the flames, he eyed a dark figure walking through the flames as if he were untouched by the agent of destruction. It was as if the fire itself weaved its way around him, was comforted by his presence. Looking up, he saw the creature-man's eyes glowing red and glaring directly at him as it held a shotgun at his side.

He had always been superstitious. From the day he could comprehend the words his mother had spoken to him, she had instilled within him the fear of God, Yahweh, the Creator, and any other name he went by. The one who came before all, he was to be feared and respected, else he would send his Archangel after you with a sword made of fire to take your soul to the depths of hell. Throughout his life, he never really understood his mother's motivation in trying to make him fear something so transparent and non present. Nor did he really care. He had gotten himself in with a good group, with girls, caps, and protection aplenty to keep him from ever having to face the inevitability of judgment. At least until he was old and ready to kick it, and by that time he probably would be a good person, right?

But all of her words slammed into him like a shot from a cannon now, playing through his head like the words of the Almighty. _"Almighty God knows your sins. And when he sees such sins on your body from on high, he sends his Archangel down to smite you with blade made of fire. After he finishes with your body, he drags your soul down to hell for an eternity of suffering."_ her words echoed in his head. The raider had noticed the shotgun in one hand, then watched, his eyes widening with each second as the figure drew a blade from behind his back. Tears began to roll down his face as he saw the fire dancing on the flat metal of the blade.

The man immediately felt a warm sensation slowly travelling down his pant leg. But he felt no shame in it, the only thing he felt was fear. He didn't know if it was for him specifically, or for his entire group, but he knew his time had come. He heard the bell on his life tolling from a long ways off as he looked back up at the flaming red glare from the man's eyes.

From behind him came the woman who he had been in the bathroom with. She angrily drew her sub-machine gun and aimed at the figure, but he vanished behind one of the crumbling shelves as she sprayed the rounds towards him. "What the fuck are you doing!?" she asked angrily as she tried to follow what she perceived as his movements with her weapon, continuing to suppress the trigger until she heard a click over the roaring flames.

"H-H-He's the…" he stuttered as he pointed towards the shelf she had been shooting at. But before he could finish the statement, a section of the shelf that was still standing blasted apart with a roar, and she screamed in pain as her leg suddenly exploded with buckshot.

The dark figure burst out from the spot wielding the blade, and within seconds he closed the distance. Her head soared into the air before thudding against the floor and rolling off to the side while her body collapsed into the flames. Then he turned around and locked his wrathful eyes on him once more. As the woman's body caught fire, the flames seemed to burn brighter until they rose behind the man like a pair of flaming wings.

John watched the curious figure who just stood staring at him from the entrance to the bathrooms. He didn't have a weapon, so he wasn't just going to kill the man. However, he was in all likeliness a raider, which the young man was quickly growing to despise. Still, he was shaking in his boots and had literally wet himself while standing stock still in front of him. Suddenly, the man moved. John went to raise the machete he wielded again, but the man didn't run for him. Instead, he was sprinting for the door of the shop faster than he'd ever seen someone run.

Reaching up, John lifted the goggles from his face as he watched the front door of the shop fly open, and saw the man vanish out into the darkness of the night.

"All cowards at heart I suppose." he remarked as he looked around the store. Most of the shelves were now ash, and aside from the smouldering bodies, the fire had died down immensely, leaving the room safe enough to scavenge. He sighed to himself as he trudged through to the back counter of the store where he saw an entire line of refrigerators on the wall. But he stopped himself as a small sound of panicked breath hit his ears.

He glared, holding up the machete, then smacked the counter with the flat of the blade. It made a loud clatter that was followed shortly be a loud cry of panic from behind the counter. Leaning over the counter, he saw a woman with blonde hair wearing nothing but overalls covering her face with fear. Smiling slightly, he spoke. "You're not going to hide from anyone if you're that loud." She squealed in terror and ran on all fours across to one of the refrigerators as John climbed onto the counter and crouched on it, glaring at her as she put her back to the fridge in fight.

Hopping off the counter, he stepped towards her slowly with the blade in one hand and his pistol in the other. With the shells from the shotgun expended, it was easier to switch guns rather than just reload the shotgun itself. John internally chuckled to himself as he watched the older woman, probably no older than her early thirties, cowering.

"Please! I'm married!" she shouted.

"Don't care." he said cooly.

"I have kids!" she shouted back in desperation.

"Don't care." he snapped coldly once more.

"I...I..." she said, stuttering to find some kind of failsafe. "I can have sex with you?"

He swung the machete straight for her neck, making her gasp in horror and slam her eyes shut. She waited for the embrace of eternity, but it never came. After a full minute of cringing more tightly than she ever had in her life, she opened her eyes and looked down at the blade that nipped at her throat. "I..." he said, stepping closer to emphasize his point. "don't..." he said, taking another step forward until he was nearly pressed against her. "care." he said icily in her face as the blade dug a bit into her flesh. He had to admit, she was alright looking. Nothing really special, but if she had offered him the same in different circumstances, he would be interested. But as it stood now, with the bodies all around him and the decorations drying in the sun outside, he was a dead fish.

"P-Please..." she begged, her eyes filling with tears now. He pulled the machete out of the way after a moment, then walked back and sat on the counter with a wicked smile.

Taking the pack that he had retrieved from the door, he laid it on the counter. "See this bag?" he asked, tapping it with the machete so that there was no confusion. She nodded rapidly, her breathing heavy. "Grab all the food and medicine you can find, and put it in here." he ordered, then threw the pack at her. She stood for a moment, unsure if he had allowed her to move yet. "Now!" he shouted, setting her off like a rocket. In a matter of minutes, his bag was stuffed with FancyLad Snack Cakes, Salisbury Steak in a can, cans of Cram, No MiSteak Brahmin Steaks, Beans 'N' Pok, Sugar Bombs, and a variety of other, more generic brand foodstuffs. There was also medkit stuffed inside with Med-X, Rad-X, Stimpaks, Jet, Psycho, and even a large bottle of something called Buffout.

When she finished, she stood before him nervously, wondering if her usefulness had finally ended. She stood in silence as the young gunman, still sitting on the counter, ate one of the FancyLad Snackcakes out of a wrapper, staring at her as if seeing straight through her clothes, her skin, down to her very soul. "A...Anything else?" she asked, her hands shaking behind her back.

"No." he said, making her flinch at the suddenness. That likely meant that her number was up. Squeezing her eyes shut, she was preparing to brace for death once more, when he spoke again. "Now get the hell out before I do to you what I did to them." he commanded her, nodding his head towards the still smoking corpses of her former fellows. He took another bite from the sweet snack cake and jumped down from the counter. She took him at his word and immediately bolted for the front of the store.

John, with his heavy pack over his shoulder now, walked into the back where there was a locked door. Pulling out a few of the bobby pins that Leo had given him, he ducked down and worked at the lock for about twenty minutes before getting angry with it and blasting the door handle off with his new shotgun. Already irritated with his failure, he swung the door open and walked in.

But all ire flew from his mind as the heavy leather rucksack hit the floor, his eyes wide as he stood stunned at the sight before him. Around the room there were several file cabinets that looked as if something inside them had blasted out of the drawers, leaving everything inside, papers, files, binders, and folders strewn across the floor. In the back of the room was a table with a bulky terminal on it and a broken lamp, along with a few caps just sitting on the table. On the far side of the room were numerous ammo boxes, probably full of all kinds of goodies depending on how long the place had been locked.

But the most prevalent and interesting thing was the giant capsule in the corner sitting next to the table. It was a full head taller than him and was made of glasteel, a composition of different alloys that made for a very thick and break-proof transparent window. At the bottom and top of the inside of the glass coffin-like contraption were fluorescent lights that lit up the main attraction, which happened to be a Protectron class robot. He stared in awe at the machine, before immediately moving over to the terminal and turning it on.

Immediately, the young man began absorbing the knowledge that typed itself out in front of him. "Protectron T-800, Robco Industries model 101. Subroutines currently set to dormant. Note to all employees, stop messing with the tin can. The last time someone decided to be funny with programming, the damn thing started acting like a bouncer and was throwing customers out on their asses." he read with a slight chuckle. "For the moment, I'm locking it up until I can get some better security on its programming. In the meantime, try to refrain from drawing mustaches on the glasteel." he finished.

When he was through reading, he attempted to open the subroutine programming, but was immediately assaulted with a password screen. He frowned briefly, then looked down at his pipboy. It had helped him crack open a few terminals in the vault before, but the Overseer was an idiot could barely understand his own pipboy worked. Pulling a small, extendable cord from the wrist-mounted computer, he plugged it into the universal port on the terminal, then opened his own designed hacking program. The vault boy on the screen suddenly vanished, then reappeared in a comical picture of him smashing a padlock with his bare fist. The screen of his pipboy lit afterwards and was filled with numbers, letters and symbols of the terminals last few hours worth of typing before it had been shut down.

He browsed through the mass of code before running across the moment when the previous owner had actually locked the terminal again, and sighed. He placed his head in his hand and rubbed his forehead. "Is it any wonder the employees kept messing with the Protectron?" he asked rhetorically as he entered the phrase he saw on the screen. Typing out each of the letters one after the other, he then hit enter on the terminal. **Password "drowssap" accepted.** "What an idiot." he finished, finally accessing the subroutines of the robot next to him. "A friendly greeter for the store, and robbery prevention unit." he read off the screen with a smile. "I wonder if I could bring you back with me..." he said curiously, the possibilities flying through his mind.

He sat in the chair typing away at the terminal for what felt like hours and hours, putting his fingers to use like he had never done before. He'd used his father's terminal a couple of times, but there wasn't much of interest on it. A couple of medical files on the different vault members, a few digital issues of "The Fast and the Luxurious" car magazine, and a couple pinups that Butch paid the young vault dweller for. But nothing in there challenged him. The biggest challenge was keeping up with and recording the readings in the vault's reactor room, and that was just a job. Finally, he finished his typing and smiled as he hit the "Accept" button on his pipboy.

But his joy was interrupted by a loud scream from the main store area. "Hey ya little shit! I know you're back there!" came a loud voice from behind the cash registers. John sighed heavily as he placed his face in his hands again. "Spikechain ain't scared o' no Bible story, now get your ass out here! Do it fast, and Spikechain might wait til after Spikechain kills you to skin you and hang you up!" shouted the man angrily.

John looked up at the door behind him curiously. "The hell is he talking about? Bible story?" he asked, then just shook his head. As soon as he turned the corner, he knew he was going to be full of holes. He needed another way out. Looking over at the robot he sighed unhappily. "Well buddy, I guess it wasn't meant to be." he said as he turned towards the terminal and began to type away once more, activating one of the robot's main functions. When he finished, he hit the Activate option and the capsule next to him slid open.

OoOoO

Spikechain, the long time, self-named boss of the Spikechain Gang sat on one of the counters that had managed to stay intact after the fire. After he had made his speech, he turned to what remained of his gang. They had been out of the store raiding when the attack had occurred, but had gotten an earful from one of his cronies who had made it out of the shop about what had happened, right before he put a bullet into the cowardly bastard. Now, he had the little shit cornered. "As soon as he comes out that door, you all put him down quicklike." he said to them with a nod.

"You know I can hear you from in here right?" yelled the young gunman from the back room, his voice almost amused.

The old raider looked at the door in surprise, yelling back, "No ya cain't!" Then he turned to the others again and, this time in a whisper, told them, "As soon as he comes out that door, you all put him down quicklike." He smiled widely as the others acknowledged the command and all aimed their weapons at the door. But they didn't fire when the door opened wider, as they were too stunned at what they saw.

It was a large robot, taller than anyone in their group, with squat legs and arms, each hand having three claw like grips on it. It was barrel-chested, having a trunk larger around than any of them present, and a glowing bright yellow headcap where the central processor was located. As it walked towards them, most of them were too stunned to do much of anything.

 _"Oh say...can you see, by...the dawns early...light."_ it said, its voice eerily childlike as it sang the United States National Anthem in a broken lineup, its clunky walk stuttering as if it were malfunctioning. _"O'er the ramparts..fzzzzzzz...we watched, were so ga...fzzzzzz...llantly streaming."_ it continued in its high pitched, strangely non-robotic sounding voice. The bandits in the room all felt goosebumps at the eerie scene of the metal man singing the Star Spangled Banner in a child's voice, while walking towards them in a very puppet-like manner. Immediately, one of the raiders fled out the open door, dashing off into the wasteland as the robot got closer.

"The fuck is this?" asked Spikechain as he stood in front of the robot, which had now stopped in front of him.

 _"And the home...fzzzzz...of the brave!"_ It sang the last high notes before the recording cut off entirely. The raider captain growled and kicked the machine, doing absolutely nothing but knocking himself on his on rear end.

Immediately, the yellowish dome on the robot turned blood red. _"Die communist scum."_ it said, before holding up its arms and firing two precise defensive lasers directly into the man's face. His head immediately unraveled as if it was made of paper, splattering all over the ground as his body fell limply to the floor. The other raiders immediately reacted by unleashing a hellstorm of gunfire on the automaton.

The Protectron began to spark as the bullets tore at its outer shell, its servos overloading from the strain of both time and bullets. One of the raiders ran up with a sledge hammer and swung it heavily, slamming the metal head into the robot's side. But the patriotic bot didn't flinch from the attack. Instead, it grabbed the woman who had assaulted it with both arms and locked her into a bear like grip before shouting its last words. _"Uncle Sam sends his regards!"_ Then, with a few seconds of loud beeping, the mines in his storage compartment detonated outwards in a shower of fire and metal, ripping the Protectron to shreds. The woman it its grip was torn limb from limb, and the raiders surrounding it with guns were downed as shrapnel punctured their bodies. The only two unaffected by the mass explosion were so stunned that they were easily gunned down by the former vault dweller, who was now standing in the doorway of the back room.

He sighed to himself as he walked over towards the massacre and looked down at the body of his new metal friend. "Well buddy, if it wasn't for you, I'd probably be dead. So I owe you one too." he finished. Reaching inside the robots blackbox protected cranium and pulled out the brain chip, which was a combination of a CPU and memory storage. He had spent hours on the device, and wasn't about to give it up simply because of a few dead raiders. Sliding the card into one of the pouches on his rucksack, he relieved the raiders of their goods, then headed out of the store and into the darkness of the night.


	6. Wasteland Cowboy

OoO( 6 )OoO

Finally leaving the burned out insides of the store, John revelled in the cool night air. Pulling out his cigarettes, he lit one before packing them away again and looking down at his pipboy. The marker for Megaton was where he left it, and he began heading in the direction of the settlement with his bags full once more.

Taking a long hit from the clover, he made his way around the ridge and readjusted his path towards the city again. But it wasn't long before he sighed to himself in frustration. "It just never ends, does it?" he asked in annoyance as he ducked his head down at the sound of gunfire. In the distance, he could easily see muzzle flashes, as well as the thin, lancing beams of light that the buzzing, patriotic drones used firing back and forth beyond the skeleton of a house to his 11 O'clock. Luckily, it looked like they were firing at each other instead of him. Using the cover of night, he slowly made his way past the house and hid behind the burned out husk of a 2068 Nexian Firecat that had been the car of choice over two hundred years ago. Deciding he was going to stay out of the encounter, and just be a spectator, he peeked over the top of the vehicle in interest, but kept his hands on his hunting rifle just in case.

The battle was taking place in the remains of a small ghost town that looked like it had suffered the worst of the blast from the bombs. The ruins of three more houses were visible thanks to the starlight with corpses of formerly fancy cars around them as well. But the most interesting thing about the sight were the combatants.

On the left side, crouched behind the crumbling walls of one of the skeleton houses was an older man. His hair and beard were silver from age, only seeable in the flashes from his weapon. Currently, he had his hair tied back into a long ponytail, likely to keep it from interfering with his aim. The man wore a long, light colored duster, and on his head he had a dusty cowboy hat that looked as if it had seen the hard work of a hundred men.

The man's appearance was definitely interesting, but what drew John's eyes the most was the long rifle that he fired with one hand. He was no expert on firearms, but there was something special about the weapon. It only fired one round at a time before having to be reloaded, which was unlike any rifle he had seen yet. And the force with which the shot commanded the air when fired was palpable. Instead of the loud crack let off by most gunpowder-powered guns, this one let out a much softer, more mechanical sound. He figured it had to be some kind of energy powered weapon, as the rounds ripping from the barrel left a dull light trail as if they were practically molten. But the figure's shots were wild and inaccurate, making the rounds smash through anything but their target.

The opponent however wasn't as inaccurate. Opposite of the cowboy was a titanic figure wielding a massive laser shooting gatling gun. The size was likely because he was in full mechanical armor that was painted nearly as black as the night around them. His eyes were a soft glowing golden color, making him look like some kind of demonic figure glaring into the darkness. Unlike the old man, his aim was nearly on target. The only thing saving the cowboy from demise by hot laser was that he ducked behind cover to reload. Eyeing the weapon that the armored figure had, he deducted that distance likely lessened the impact of the lasers, making them less effective the farther they traveled. Since this was likely a fight to the death, he wondered why the man in the impenetrable fortress-like armor didn't just stomp over and take his nemesis out instead of keeping his distance. With each step of the giant figure, the hydraulic sounding mechanics could be heard, cluing him in that the armor itself was moving, and not just the man within.

Once again, the old man popped up from his cover, slapped the exotic weapon over the wall of his cover, then fired. But again, the shot went wide and blasted through one of the remaining walls of the surrounding houses. In an instant, he was ducking back behind the barrier. John eyed the wall he was hiding behind, and knew as a new stream of plasma rained down on it that it wouldn't hold for long. From the look of it, he had maybe a minutes worth of cover left before the beams would break through and riddle him with holes.

Suddenly, the lasers stopped again, and the dark titan no doubt had to let the weapon cool down to prevent it from melting in his hands. And the fight continued, back and forth, one firing when he had the opportunity, and the other using sheer force to power through his opponent's barrier.

As the barrels overheated again, John began to grow annoyed. The old man took another shot, and as predicted, the daylight on the shot was massive. From the level of the weapon, it didn't seem to be firing wildly due to damage or an uncoordinated sight. Wherever the man pointed, the rounds flew. So that meant it had to be user error. Once again, the man was behind cover, and the armored juggernaut began to peel back layer after layer of his cover with laser fire. As he continued to watch, John wondered just what he was watching.

If comic books were to be believed, the cowboy was some kind of bringer of justice, biding his time until his opponent opened up a weak spot, then would spring up and disable the armored man. That would lead to him bringing him into the law. From comic book standards, the armored figure was the model of a villain, but he knew that comic books had a very limited basis in reality. People were more complicated than good and evil, light side and dark side, benevolent and malevolent. For all he knew, the old man was a killer who was getting due justice and the titanic gatling laser wielder was with some kind of police force. Such was the levels of society, you never knew who you could trust. However, his thinking was put on hold as the lasers finally did their work and cracked the barrier wall in half, making it crumble.

John stared wide-eyed at the scene. Now, in order to take cover, the old man had to lay down flat. There was no way he'd be able to get up and get a shot off, then get back down in time before another stream of laser fire finally put him down. He watched the intense scene for a moment longer as the old man held his position. "Just stay down…" he mumbled to himself. Turning to see if the armored figure was advancing, the young gunman was surprised to find those golden glowing eyes staring directly at him. He watched in near slow motion as the titan turned the minigun in his direction and began to fire.

A split second was all it took to realize he had been spotted, and he hurled himself down behind the vehicle as the lasers smashed through the aged metal of the car, creating a loud klaxon that made him cover his ears to keep from going deaf as the metal began to heat and buckle. Unlike the old man, he luckily had more cover to resort to, and he grabbed his pack and began to low crawl away from the destroyed car. But he stopped a moment as he heard a loud pop. Turning his head, he saw the engine compartment of the car blazing with fire now, and his eyes widened, knowing what was coming next. It was simple, and something he'd experienced back in the reactor in Vault 101. When nuclear cells are exposed to extreme heat, they self destruct. And not in the clean purging of materials within the cell, but an outward purge at high velocity and rad count. In the vault however, they have disposal methods that keep that from happening.

There was no possibility of that in this time and place. Instead, he immediately jumped to his feet and sprinted away from the car, but he got only a few steps before a wave hit him that sent him sprawling. "Fuck!" he growled as he got to his feet, feeling like he'd been hit by the car that exploded. Turning back, he saw the miniature mushroom cloud that had erupted from the engine block.

Much to his chagrin however, the explosion had hit another nearby car, which was already blazing with fire. He quickly looked at the arrangement of cars and immediately saw a domino effect about to happen. And if he didn't get his ass moving, he'd be dead before it finished. Grabbing his rifle and rucksack once more, he sprinted away from the burning car. Again, it detonated and sent him tumbling, but he didn't stop. Rolling back to his feet, the next one exploded, then the next, chaining towards him as if he were being carpet bombed.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" he shouted as he felt the blasts getting closer by the second. Suddenly, one went off behind him and sent him soaring once more, this time right through the wall of one of the dilapidated houses. When he hit the ground, he immediately coughed loudly, trying to clear the dust from his lungs. Looking down at his pipboy and immediately saw something wrong with his leg. Scanning the area with his pipboy light, he saw that the armor he had had been penetrated, and blood was pouring from the lacerated area. "Alright asshole…" he growled, gritting his teeth together in pain as he pulled out a dose of Med-X and hit himself with it. He didn't have time right now to bandage the wound, so a stimpack to try and stop the flow would have to do. "Guess who just became the bad guy." Grabbing his hunting rifle, his attitude deflated when he saw the barrel bent at an angle.

"Not gonna kill anything with that." came a voice from the darkness. Immediately, the young gunman grabbed the assault rifle from his back and aimed it in the direction the voice had come from. Standing in the same house, dozens of yards away from his previous cover, was the old man. As expected, his hair and beard were silver, and his duster was sand colored in the light of the pipboy. "Evenin'." he said, holding the large rifle in his left hand. In the small amount of light they had, John could see what the problem was. The cowboy's right arm was dangling uselessly at his side, many scorch marks scattered across the limb, likely making it useless.

"Evening..." responded John as he kept his gun on the man. He examined the figure as the older man sat down in a state of near exhaustion. It was then that the younger man saw the figure on the back of the duster. It was the head of a wolf, burned intricately into the back of the leather coat so that it stared directly at him, as if calmly questioning his presence.

John suddenly joined him on the ground as laser fire hit the wall of the house, cutting through the wood, but not getting through the stone. "I'd say thank you for the diversion. Without you, I'd still be in the last house, ready to be gunned down. But then, you're in this situation with me now."

John sighed and pulled more ammo for his assault rifle out. "That's the way it's looking." he grumbled. Then he looked at the man's arm, wanting to wince at how bad it looked. "I guess your crazy firing is because you're doing it one handed?" asked the young man as he pulled out his medkit. "Given that we're in this together now, I can try and fix you up."

"I'm fine son. No need to worry about ol' Angus." he said, his breathing heavy and deep. "Besides, the damage is done. It'll take a lot more than little needles to fix this ol' thing."

John walked slowly over to a crack in the wall and peeked through, spying the large figure in the distance. Suddenly, the laser fire diverted and focused on that spot, blasting the wall with heat and exploding the stone inward. John only just ducked in time, the heat from the laser fire nearly blistering his skin as he fell on his rear end. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted, rubbing the damaged cheek.

But the old man held a finger to his lips, shushing him before speaking in the same low tone as before. "He has gadgets in his helmet that let him pinpoint you with sound. The more noise you make, the easier he can spot you."

"So that's how he found me!" whispered John as he crawled away from the spot, not wanting to try his luck with the man's aim. Why the hell isn't he overrunning us right now? He could have just walked up and splattered us with that weapon and armor." he asked as he finally took a moment to try and wrap his leg.

The old man chuckled. "He's too cowardly for that." he said, smiling over at John with pearly white teeth, something John had hardly seen since he left the vault. "As long as he stays at a distance, he knows I can't hit him. But if he gets closer, my aim might improve." he said simply between increasingly laboured breaths.

John looked from the old man's smirking face, down to the large weapon in his hands. "So that thing can pierce his armor?" he asked curiously, nodding at the rifle in the man's lap.

"Damn right it can. This thing could drill through a nuclear blast door with two or three shots. And the Enclave armor is strong, but not strong enough for this." he said, running his hand along the barrel of the rifle as if he were stroking the neck of a favorite pet.

"What kind of weapon is that?" he asked, staring at the smoking muzzle of the weapon.

The old man lifted the gun and handed it to him. John went wide eyed as he examined the curious weapon. "It's a Gauss Rifle. Made by the US Army to counter Chinese Chimera tanks. Ain't no armor can stand up to it for long." said the older man as he chuckled. Suddenly, his chuckle turned into a heaving cough that splattered blood across his good hand.

John set the weapon aside and immediately got to his knees. "You're not doing too well. How long have you been fighting for?" he asked as he pulled his medkit from the sack, the sound of lasers hitting the wall constant once more.

"Heh...about twelve hours straight. I've hunted this demon for almost ten years now. And when I finally have him cornered, I lost my arm. Luckily, I took out his radio. And he's too stubborn to go for backup." said the man as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Why are you chasing him? That doesn't sound like a good life choice to me." said the young gunman as he began pulling out medicine. When he went to treat the man, the cowboy just grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

"Don't be wastin' that stuff on me young'un. I'm too far gone for any o' that." he said as he wiped the blood onto his pant leg. "He was responsible for a raid that left my daughter's mother dead. She was the love of my life, and I was bad to her, spending too much time working. Trying to make a good life for them both." John pulled out a cigarette and lit it as the barrage from behind the other side of the wall continued. He offered the man one, who took it gratefully.

The young man nodded. "Why did the Enclave attack your wife?" he asked, puffing from the clover as he put the medicine away reluctantly.

Angus just sighed remorsefully. "They were after some loud-mouthed protester for goddamned President Eden. Apparently the man had taken out all the drones in his area, then started gathering an army to try and attack what he thought was an Enclave outpost. The Enclave don't come out of hiding often, but when they do, they mean business. Once they got wind of it, they moved in and wiped the place clean. No survivors." he said, his voice, usually steady and calm, starting to shake at the claim. "I happened to be out relic hunting with my daughter at the time, teaching her how to make it in the family business." he said, noticing that the battlefield was quiet.

 _"Surrender yourself to the Enclave and mercy will be shown."_ commanded a robotic voice from the other side of the wall.

The cowboy looked at John and shook his head, coughing blood once more onto his hand. "Don't you believe him for a second. He was the one who supposedly disposed of the unwanted innocents during that raid. He'd have no qualms about killing you here and now." he said, his breathing now wheezing and dry.

"Are you sure you don't need medicine? I can tell you have internal injuries as well." said John as he crouched next to the man with concern.

The old man just shook his head sadly. "I'm done, I've used up all I've got..." he said as he pointed at the rifle that John had set aside. "Give me a gun and help me kill this bastard. I'll distract him, and you use that to put him down. Once that's done, I can finally die in peace." he said in his gasping breath.

The gunman looked at him wide-eyed, then nodded. "Alright...take this." he said, offering him the assault rifle. "It's a spitfire, so it'll keep him distracted until I can get a shot off. I'll take his weapon out and keep him from drawing anymore. Afterwards, you can do what you want with him." he finished. The old man smiled lightly and nodded.

"You got a good head on you kid. Do me a quick favor..." he said, getting the young man's attention. "Don't let the harsh wasteland turn you into him." he said nodding towards the armored soldier. "Many let the wasteland turn them into monsters. Not literally, like the ghouls, but here." he said, tapping his heart with his good hand. "I can see you aren't one of them. Don't change that." John stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Now, get going. I'll draw his fire."

The cowboy lifted the automatic weapon and stuck it into one of the holes made by the previous laser barrages. He aimed in the general direction of the dark figure and pulled the trigger, causing rounds to fly across the field. The Enclave unit took a step back at the fire, but only took a second or two to realize that the gun being fired wasn't any threat to him.

With the soldier properly distracted, John moved from the house and dove behind another car that had been far enough away not to get hit with the chain reaction.

Keeping his head low, he sprinted from cover and did a baseball slide behind the rickety wall of another house just before the armored man recomposed himself and began firing back at the old man's position. It wouldn't save him from the laser fire, but it kept him out of sight as he lined up the shot. He wasn't aware of the kickback on the weapon, but he wasn't taking any chances after the shotgun incident in the grocer. Setting the stock against his shoulder, he looked through the startlingly advanced scope and aimed. The armored soldier was already firing at Angus' position again, allowing John to set the red dot directly on the weapon that the man was firing. Thinking about the four principles of firing, he adjusted his stance, aimed, exhaled deeply, then squeezed.

Unfortunately, the stance that countered the recoil from a hunting rifle wasn't the same needed for this weapon. John was thrown back into the dirt as soon as the slug left the barrel, sending him into a coughing fit. "Right...gauss rifle. Magnets, Newton's third law...I'm an idiot." he chastised as he got back up from his position. To his relief however, the weapon had struck true. Not directly on the weapon, but close enough.

Despite the weapon recoil, the round flew straight and not only smashing into the Enclave assaulter's weapon, ripping the top half of the heavy gun to shreds and sending two of the barrels flying off into the darkness. The round continued however, also annihilating the man's hand that was holding the trigger of the gatling laser. The dark, robotic voice cried out loudly in pain as he held up a stump that was gushing blood from his arm.

John stood again after catching his breath, then walked out of cover, rifle up again and aimed directly at the mourning soldier. The old man stepped out from cover as well, the assault rifle in his left hand. Together, they converged on the soldier until they stood before the gasping, kneeling figure.

"I've been waiting a long time for this..." said the cowboy as he glared down at the man. "Take off the helmet." he ordered, the assault rifle aimed directly at the soldier.

 _"Burn in hell old man."_ said the robotic voice, no doubt synthesized by the helmet itself.

"Unless you want to lose the other hand, I'd suggest doing as he says." John snapped, keeping back away from the pair. He didn't know how capable this man was, and didn't want to presume that just because he'd lost a hand meant that he was out of the fight.

The man before them growled, translating to a robotic rumble through the voice synthesizer. But finally, he reached up with his good hand and hit the pressure release catch underneath the lid. The helmet released the contained oxygen inside, then the Enclave unit reached up and slid the helmet off his head, showing the shining bald head of an older man. He had a five o'clock shadow on his grimacing face, and his right eye was accented with a slashing scar that rendered the optic dead. "Not a bad shot for someone with one eye." commented John, his finger already on the trigger.

The soldier smirked at the young man. "Thanks." was all he said as he clutched his mangled hand.

The old man stood in front of him glaring down at the bald man in spite. "You know...I wondered for a long time what I'd say if I ever had you in this position. Turns out, the answer is nothin'. I could stand here and make a speech about how you killed my wife, and try to make you remember the day that it happened as some kind of twisted retribution before I kill you. But you wouldn't remember. Your kind never do. So why don't I just get this whole thing over with?" he asked, drawing a revolver from his side.

The man on his knees sneered up at the cowboy. "Why not duel me for it?" he asked. The old man looked at him darkly, silently. "We've both lost our good hands. So if you think you deserve retribution for your wife, give me a gun and we'll do this like men. Winner walks away." he said in a raspy voice, laced with desperation.

The old man looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "So be it." he said. He pulled his duster off, then his armored chest piece and tossed them to the side. "Out of that armor, and you'll get a gun." he said sharply.

Standing to his full height, the Enclave soldier slowly reached up with his remaining hand and activated the release on the armor. John's gauss rifle was pointed at him the entire time, making sure he didn't try anything funny. The armor, much to the young gunman's amazement, opened up in the back. The plates unfolded, sliding outwards towards the front of the armor until finally there was a large enough hole in the back for him to step out of. It was like those old holovids from the vault where cicada would shed its skin, leaving it standing behind while the bug itself moved on. Underneath the armor was only a jumpsuit emblazoned with the American flag over the heart, and a pair of boots that matched perfectly.

As John realized he was staring at the armor, he shook his head, snapping him out of it just as Angus signaled him. "Hey kid, can you loan him a pistol for me?" asked the oldest among them. With his duster and chest plate gone, Angust was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a navy-colored tshirt.

John looked at him sternly for a moment, about to question whether handing the man a weapon was the best idea. But he conceded as the old man gave him a knowing stare. "Alright." he said, reaching down and grabbing the 10mm pistol off his side. He threw the weapon, landing it in the dirt right next to the man. "Bend down and pick it up. If you fire early, the last thing that'll go through your mind is a gauss round." he snapped, keeping his sights locked onto the man through the scope of the energy weapon. The soldier was growing more pale by the second, no doubt from the blood loss.

The Enclave unit picked up the pistol and held it in his good hand at his side, just as the old man did with his revolver. "Now turn around." said the cowboy as he turned, having faith in the young gunman not to allow the man to shoot him in the back. The bald man turned as well, a look of darkness setting over his face. "Kid, count to three and fire a round into the air. When the round goes off, you and me spin and fire. Understood?" asked the old man. The soldier said nothing, opting to stay silent in what could be his last moments.

"One!" shouted John as he lifted the rifle up and grabbed the pistol from his other holster. He watched the pair as they stood, facing away from each other patiently. "Two!" he raised the pistol into the air. "Three!" he shouted, then pulled trigger and sent the round flying into the night sky. Immediately, he felt a hot sting in his shoulder that sent him careening into the shattered fence behind him. As sat there, he reached up and felt fresh blood pouring from a new wound that had materialized. Turning back, he glared at the bald man, seeing the smirk on his face as he turned on the old man and fired.

But his smirk was gone in seconds. Six loud cries from the rotating revolver sounded, and the man fell dead with six new holes in his head, all nearly perfectly circular. The old man dropped the revolver, letting out a breath that he had carried with him for a long time. He inhaled deeply as he closed his eyes, a small smile on his face as he did. "The wasteland smells cleaner."

John stumbled over to his rucksack again, yanking out the medkit and hitting himself with another dose of Med-X. Luckily, it wouldn't need surgery, as it appeared that the bullet had gone all the way through. Once the painkiller was applied, he took another stimpak and injected it into the shoulder area. Once that was finished, he just flopped back against the car that was closest and growled, waiting for the medicine to kick in. "I knew it was too good to be true."

Turning his head towards John, he smiled brightly. "Thank you son. You don't know what it means to me to have killed him myself." he said, bowing his head in a strangely Asian-cultured way. "Are you gonna be alright? Didn't mean to get you even more injured."

Finally, he started feeling the relieving effects of the medication. He nodded dumbly as the pain lessened immensely. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Looks like he didn't have much faith in your aim with a revolver. Wanted to take out the most threatening presence." he said chuckling at his poor luck.

"Yeah, I've trained with that damn gun all my life. With a rifle, firing one handed leaves much up to luck. But you only need one hand to fire a pistol. There's been a lot of fools that underestimated this old man." he said, smiling down at the young gunman. "Now, I need you to do me one more favor."

John, after wrapping his shoulder enough so that he could make it home, looked up and lit another clover to take his mind off of it. "What do you need?" he asked, watching as the cowboy sat down against the car, his breathing heavy.

"I want you to find my daughter for me. My little Moonbeam. Find her, and tell her that her father loves her." he said sadly. "Take my jacket and my rifle in return. Just keep bein' a hero kid. The wasteland really needs one."

John looked over at the man, the clover dropping from his mouth. The sun had finally risen into the morning sky, allowing the young gun to see the bullet hole in the man's shirt near his heart. "Goddammit old man! Why didn't you say something!?" he shouted as he scrambled towards him, patting himself down for medicine.

"Don't, you'd be wastin' your medicine. It's done the damage, and can't be repaired." he said, his breathing now very labored now. "Just promise me..." he said, grabbing the collar of John's leather armor desperately.

Sighing, utterly defeated, John nodded. "I'll find her, and I won't become what he was." he said to the older man. "I promise. Now, what's her name?"

The mans smile lit up his face. "Thank you..." he said, then laid his head back. "Her name is...Sssss…" started Angus, but he never got to finish his sentence. John noticed almost immediately that the man's breathing had stopped. He simply sighed to himself and stood up as the light of dawn started to show in the east.

OoOoO

Hours later, the sun was up in the sky, shining down on the gunman as he looked down at the old man's grave that he had dug. Fighting through the pain of his arm and his leg both rebelling, he forced himself to do it, until finally it was deep enough to keep the any roaming animals away. Pulling him into the grave was also a hassle, but he just dosed up again and forced himself to do it. Finally, the task was done, and he took one of the fence posts that he'd shattered with his own body last night and spiked it into the ground at the head of the grave.

He stood, staring for a long moment at the post, before sighing and flicking his cigarette into the wind. Reaching down, he picked the cowboy hat up off the ground, then set it on the post to rest. Taking the duster off the ground, he slid the coat onto his shoulders. The right arm of the thing was nearly gone, and seeing how damaged Angus' arm was, that was no surprise. Reaching up, he ripped the scraps free, leaving it without a sleeve. He then proceeded to do the same to the other side until it was nearly symmetrical.

Finally finished, he slipped the coat on over his armor, then picked up the rucksack and secured it to his back. Lastly, he picked up the gauss rifle and took another look at the grave before remembering the dead man's words. The wasteland was a place filled with people who thought nothing more of others than as stepping stones. It was a lifestyle now, kill or be killed, never turn your back on anyone, only the strong survive. The people with this thought process, he had called them monsters. People who were so cowardly that they had to shove others into the fire so they could survive.

The people of the wastes needed someone who wasn't like that. They needed someone who wouldn't walk on them to get to greater heights, someone who wouldn't turn their backs on them when things things got tough. He sighed to himself, annoyed as he remembered that Mr. Brotch's G.O.A.T. exam said that he would make a good vault Chaplain. Finally, as the sun rose from the horizon, changing the sky to a bright orange, he turned away from the grave and pulled the goggles back down onto his eyes. "See you later cowboy." he said silently as he made his way back to the city of Megaton.


	7. Intimidation Tactics

OoO( 7 )OoO

Hours later, the sun once again blasted the wasteland with its heat, cooking anything that was unprotected from the elements. The wind had picked up slightly, causing sand and dust to fly into the air, stinging anything it impacted. That included the wandering vault dweller, who was currently stepping up to the sizzling gates of Megaton. He greeted Deputy Weld, who was as enthusiastic as ever at an approaching visitor, before he pushed the inner wooden gate open and stepped inside. He turned, he used his uninjured shoulder to push the heavy door back. Finally, he stepped back towards the city, wiping sweat from his brow as he did.

"Damn kid. Haven't been out here a week and you already look like you just hijacked the Brotherhood of Steel's headquarters." said the dark-skinned sheriff with a laugh. John turned and looked up at the man, seeing him standing on a catwalk that used the roof of the clinic as part of its path. The sheriff was leaning against the railing with his trusty assault rifle over his shoulder, and a cowboy hat, not unlike the one that Angus wore. Suddenly, Simms' smile was replaced with a look of curiosity. "That's an interesting coat you've got there. You mind telling me where you got it?"

Stunned by the question, it was only then that the young gunman realized that the duster he was wearing was oddly similar to the sheriff's own. Doing the math, he knew that the lawbringer had to have known the old man. Reaching into his pack, he grabbed a bottle of water and tossed it up to Lucas, who caught it, never dropping his curious gaze. Finally, John grabbed one as well and headed up the catwalk until the two stood next to each other. "I got it from a man out in the wastes." he said, popping the cap off the bottle and taking a swig.

"I imagine so. Don't think there are many outlet stores with sales going on this far out." said the man in amusement before taking a drink from the gifted bottle.

"He was fighting a member of the Enclave, one of the big guys in the armor. I got pulled into it when the asshole heard me, and started firing at me just for being there." said John as he let out a long sigh, finally giving in and leaning tiredly against the railing of the catwalk. If the thing snapped off and sent him tumbling, he'd probably just lay there and sleep for all he cared. "I helped old Angus take the guy out, but his wounds were to severe, and he refused medicine. He asked before he died that I take his coat, his gun, and give a message to his daughter."

Simms adopted a look of both relief and sadness. "If you heard about the daughter, then I'm inclined to believe you." said the sheriff, getting a wide-eyed stare from the young man. "I knew Angus pretty well, worked with him a couple times. Never talked about her with anyone he didn't think was good people." commented Sheriff Simms as he tipped his hat to the old man.

"Sorry to hear that." said John quietly as he too looked over the ground level of the town. Then, a question popped into his head and he turned back to the sheriff. "Any chance you know who his daughter is? He...died...before he told me her name, and all he called her was his 'Little Moonbeam.'"

Sadly, Simms shook his head. "Never asked much about her. He was very proud, talked alot about her accomplishments, how big she was getting, that kinda thing. But I think he didn't even really trust us, because he never told us anything about her. Not even her name."

"Damn…" complained John as he finally finished the water from the bottle. He'd have to try and find her on the nickname alone, and that was no easy task.

"I can tell you that she doesn't live here. Any time Angus went off to see her, he always left the city heading east, and didn't come back for at least another month. So at least you don't have to ask around these parts much." comment the sheriff as she stood up straight and stretched. "Well, good to see you survived your first excursion. Keep it up and you might live long enough to make your mark on the wasteland." said the man as he handed the empty bottle back to John, then turned away and began walking up the catwalk.

The last sentence spoken by the man reminded the young gunman of something. Standing straight, he stopped the sheriff again. "By the way, Sheriff Simms!" he called out. The man turned and eyed him once more. "I've been meaning to ask...Billy said you had a house for sale. I was wondering how much you're charging for it. If it's still available, that is."

Lucas scratched his finely trimmed beard thoughtfully. "Hmmm...depends really. Normally I'd charge the regular going rate. We're doing pretty well here, but we could always use some new parts for the purifier, some new energy cells for the night lamps, or just plain medicine." said Lucas as he stepped towards the young man thoughtfully. "But seeing as you've been helping both Moira and Walter around town, and you happen to know your way around a weapon, I'd say that making you a future resident of the town should be on my priority list." he said, crossing his arms. "Keep up the good work around town, and I might just give you a discount on it."

John had a hopeful look in his eyes at the man's words. "That would be much appreciated. I was lucky enough to have some to spare when I came out of the vault. But even after emptying all the pockets of every raider I find, I still just barely break even at the saloon." he commented, his voice showing signs of relief..

Lucas gave an understanding nod. "I'll give it some thought and get back to you. Just keep your nose clean and keep doing what you've been doing, and you might just have you a permanent place here." the sheriff said, tipping his hat and heading towards the walkway to the upper level of the city.

Once Sheriff Simms was on his way, John immediately knew where he was going next. Stepping down the walkway, he opened the door to the first building on his right. The clinic...as it was called, was just as ramshackle and run down as the rest of town. No sterile equipment, no clean table operating table, and barely any light shining through the openings in the wall. John's eyes widened immensely at the state of the facility. "This is where people get treated?" he asked, horrified at the degraded state of everything.

"Yeah, it is. Got a problem with it and you can go stitch yourself back together." came the voice of a dark-skinned man that sat at a desk near the door.

John eyed the man curiously, before letting his ruck straps loose and letting the heavy pack fall to the floor. Finally, he stepped up to the desk. "Sorry, I just came out of the vault yesterday, so…"

"So you were surprised how unsanitary this place is. Well kid, you don't get to be choosy out here. Now, is there something you need, or can I get back to ignoring you?" asked the older man curiously.

The sharp tone nearly made the young man recoil, but he stood his ground. "I was hoping you could help me dig the metal out of my shoulder before it heals up around it." he said, lifting the duster and showing the doctor the gauze covered wound.

The doctor just sighed and stood up. "Good, just what Megaton needed. Another damn troublemaker." he said as he walked over and examined the entry wound. The doctor was silent for a long moment, then eyed the young man. "Who cleaned and wrapped you up if you don't mind my asking."

John shook the duster off removed the chest armor entirely, then undid the top of the jumpsuit, allowing the doctor free access to his bare shoulder. "I did. Didn't have much choice, the only others around me were a dead man and a dying man." he said, wincing as the man gently pushed down on the edges of the hole.

The doctor looked up at the newcomer in surprise. "You have any medical history?"

John simply nodded, wincing as the dark-skinned figure pushed around the edges of his pale wound. "Father was a doctor in the vault. I was training to be one before he left...ahh!" he growled as the pain became too much.

Doc Church smirked at the young man. "Gotta say, this ain't bad work. A lot better than most of the idiots I get in here."

John chuckled lightly once the pain had passed. "You think people here are idiots? We had one guy who got a serious cut across his bicep, and thought he'd just throw some salt in it and put it back together with some metal grade adhesive." chuckled John as the doctor peeled away the gauze and used a small military flashlight to examine it.

The doctor looked at him in surprise. "Nooo…" he said, almost wincing.

"Yeah. He found out real quick that salt and sheet glue do not mix well. It practically burned a hole through his arm." finished John, making the older man laugh. At the very least, the ice had been taken out of his tone.

"I say that's God's way of weeding out the stupid." said Doc Church as he walked over to a table. "Alright, looks like a through and through. Nothing big broke off, so let's get the little pieces out and get you patched up." said the man as he dug out a pair of long needle-nosed pliers and a bottle of disinfectant. Knowing the pain that was coming, the young man took out another dose of Med-X and gave it to himself before moving over to the table and laying down, giving the doctor the access he needed. The doctor put on a pair of gloves, likely used for kitchen cleaning before the war, then clipped the flashlight onto his overalls before opening the wound and diving in.

It was an agonizing twenty minutes before the good doctor finally pulled the last piece of the 10mm metal slug out of his shoulder. By the end, John was sweating profusely, and on the verge of vomiting up the snack cakes he had taken a liking to. After releasing the last bullet fragment into a metal tray that was sitting off to the side, the doctor cleaned the damaged tissue and began sewing up the wound. When he finished, he placed another gauze pad over it and tied it on to secure it.

"I'd give you a week before doing anything strenuous. It should seal up a lot faster with a stimpak applied daily, if you can afford it. If not, I wouldn't test the limits. You should know that of course." he said waving his hand dismissively. "That'll be two hundred caps, and no you can't bring it back later." he finished as he sat back down at his table, gloves soaking in a sink of clear liquid.

John chuckled, dug out the doctor's money, then left it on the desk. Grabbing his pack over his good shoulder, he opened the door to the clinic and stepped out into the daylight again. It was about time he offloaded some of this stuff at Moira's shop. Turning back to the catwalk, he made his way up to the store and opened the door. The man with the sandy-colored hair eyed him again, but didn't make a move this time. John warily nodded to the man before turning to the bubbly woman behind the counter who was ecstatic to see him if her expression was any indicator.

She made her way around the counter and immediately assaulted him with questions, grabbed his arms in a painful grip with an excited smile on her face. "So!? How did it go? Did ya find any food? Did ya find any medicine? Do they still accept coupons?" she asked frantically.

John put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her off lightly. "Please, I'm not at top condition at the moment." he said, cringing at the pain she inflicted in his arms. Either his medication was wearing off faster than normal, or this woman had unmatched grip strength.

Moira straightened up, a caring look on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was it those bad ol' raiders?" she asked, crossing her arms with an angry look on her face. Reaching over, she grabbed a chair and set it in front of him.

"Yes, but don't worry, I took care of them." he said, sitting down in the seat gratefully. Her face immediately softened as she crouched down in her jumpsuit and patted his knee.

"That's good. Can't do to have raiders hangin' about in places where people might look for food!" she said matter of factly. "So, how'd it go? Did all this come from there?" she asked curiously, eying the bag that he had set in front of her.

He nodded. "Yeah, it still had plenty of food when I left too, but the majority of the food came from the raiders, not the store." he said, finally getting comfortable in the chair. "They were using it for a home base of sorts, so anything that was already there was picked clean. Luckily, I found a protectron inside that helped me clean the place out."

She grinned from ear to ear. "Oh marvelous! You even found a robot inside! That'll go great in the book." she said, scribbling notes down onto a clipboard. "So, what would be your assessment. Is it a good idea for people to check stores like that for food? Or are they best left avoided?" she asked eagerly.

He thought about it for a moment. "I wouldn't recommend it unless it's out of the way. Most of the non perishable food left would already be taken after two hundred years." he commented, then remembered the fortifications of the Super Duper Mart. "But if you find a store that's empty, they would make for good communities. From the looks of that store, most of them had pretty strong structures built in case of war. So they're easily defensible." he finished.

She nodded throughout his whole analysis, writing down his thoughts on her clipboard for transcription later. When she finished, she stood up with a smile. "Great! Looks like we got the first chapter set! All I have to do is write it." she said, giggling madly.

"First chapter huh? Does that mean you want my assistance with more chapters?" he asked, a curious smirk on his face as he watched her expression change from jubilant to nervous.

The young woman looked down at the floor and began to fidget with her fingers. "Well...ya were a great assistant. I was kinda sorta hopin' you'd be willing to keep helping me write the book." she said in a reserved tone as she looked up at him with something resembling 'puppy-face'.

He just laughed loudly and covered his eyes to prevent himself from looking at her. "Alright alright, fine. But from now on, I need medical supplies when I go out. If the store hadn't had any, I'd probably be out there right now squirming around in the dust in pain." he said. She squealed and nodded happily.

"Yeah! I'll go prepare the next chapter!" she said, then ran up the stairs of the store. John picked his pack back up, gave himself another dose of Med-X to counter the surgical pain, then left.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stepped into the saloon once more. Gob and Nova both smiled brightly at seeing him, but he just smiled back and made his way to his room. He didn't have much time for small talk at the moment, as the heavy ruck on his back was weighing him down immensely. Once he finally opened the door, he tossed the bag onto the bed and closed the door behind him. Quickly, he made his way over to the bed and flopped onto it heavily.

This bed, it sucked. It smelled funny, probably wasn't even clean, and the pillow was practically as flat as paper. But it was exactly what he needed right now. Looking down, he kicked the ruck off the bed to make more room for himself, then began the slow process of unbuckling his armor and throwing it into the corner. It took a full ten minutes before he was finally free of the confines of the leather nightmare. When all his armor was off, he laid back on the bed and remembered the armor he had to leave behind.

After burying Angus in his final resting place, he had tried to get himself into the suit of armor left behind by the Enclave soldier. Unfortunately, nothing he did would move the thing. If he'd stayed out another day to try and figure it out, he might have had a shot at bringing it back. But with his wounds, and the exhaustion he was already suffering, there was no possibility of that. Instead, he dragged the inert suit of armor inside one of the houses and laid a mattress on top of it. Perhaps one day, he could go back and try to tinker with it so that he could have a set of armor that actually blocked bullets. But for the moment, he had to stow it away in his memory for later.

One thing that popped out of his memory, however, was the drone. He'd heard from both Angus and Nathan that the buzzing drones around the wasteland belonged to the Enclave. Sitting up in the bed, he reached over and delicately grabbed the rounded orb. Before he'd set off for the market and before Nova had opened the door and flung herself at him, he'd worked on the small drone a bit. Now, where once there was a speaker, sat the small screen of the miniature television he had found in Springvale. He'd only done enough work to connect the new projection screen to the inside circuits, as well as a new pair of speakers. The new ones were smaller, of course. But they should work nonetheless. As he delicately set the machine down on the bed, he opened up the compartment to the core of the machine again, then reached into the pouch on his belt. In seconds, he procured the brain chip of the protectron that had saved him in Super Duper Mart.

However, before any more work could be done, the door opened and Nova stepped inside the room again. Seeing her, he set the chip inside the small drone's compartment, then set them off to the side once more.

She gave him and attractive, almost cat-like smile. "You look like you've had a long day sugar." she said as she strolled over the bed and sat next to him.

"Something like that." he said dryly, stretching himself out on the mattress like a tired feline. Nova smiled and straddled his lower body, leaning forward and pressing herself against his back as he laid face down in the mattress.

"Does someone need to relax?" she asked coyly, to which he nodded gratefully.

"Just be careful of the shoulder, it's still healing." he said as he reached back grabbed her legs gently, loving the feel of the smooth skin in his hands. She nodded, pulling the man free of both his jumpsuit and shirt, then proceeded to massage his tiredness away.

OoOoO

A few hours, and a few tumbles with Nova later, the young man found himself too awake to even take a nap. Whether it was the constant pain he'd been put through over the last few days, or just him adjusting to a new environment, he couldn't say. But even the falling of the sun didn't put him down. Instead, he got to his feet and decided to hang out in the bar of the saloon. He was paying for the room, so he might as well get to know more of the people he supposed.

While Nova was off taking a bath, or what estimated as a bath to the outside world, Gob was watching the counter. John sat at the bar and talked with Gob for a bit, before the got into the interesting topic of food, and whether ghouls could taste or not. As an experiment, John produced one of the boxes of Fancylad Snackcakes from his room for the bartender to try. While Gob stared suspiciously at one of the diamond-shaped cakes, John sat across the bar, smoking one of his clovers.

"You sure this is edible?" asked the ghoul warily.

"C'mon Gob, you saw me eat the other one." said John with a smile as he ashed cig in the nearby ashtray. "You've got to try at least one."

The ghoul sighed, then shrugged. "Ah, what the hell? Not like it can make me any uglier." he said, getting a chuckle from John before cramming the morsel into his decaying jaws. As he munched down on the sweetcake, John could see as a look of fascination began to dawn on the rad-ravaged man's face. He finished chewing it and swallowed deeply, then just sat there with a contemplative look on his face. All the sudden his face twisted into a mask of anger. "Goddammit!" he said, pounding his fist onto the bar.

John leaned back in shock. "You alright Gob? I didn't mean to piss you off." he asked warily, wondering what had set off the friendly ghoul.

"No, it's not you kid." he said, his angry face calming down slightly. "It's Moriarty. I asked the bastard one time what one of these tasted like. He said I wouldn't like it and ate it right in front of me. I just assumed it was an acquired taste." said the ghoul, his eyes flaring in irritation.

John rested his head on his hand as he looked at the bartender, his eyebrow raising curiously. "You know Gob, with the way you've painted Moriarty to me, I'm surprised you haven't gotten out of here. Why stick around?" he asked curiously before puffing at the clover one last time, then putting it out afterwards.

Gob just sighed and put his head in his hands. "Don't have much of a choice. I left Underworld, looking for fortune in the ruins of DC. It's said that the supermutants there don't bother with us ghouls. So I figured I'd hang around and dig through the stuff that people left behind. Turns out the supermutants don't scare off everyone." he said, shaking his head in a morose fashion.

"Another raider band?" asked John as he took a swallow of beer that he'd bought earlier.

Gob nodded. "Yeah, a slaver band. When they find humans in the ruins, they threaten them to either cooperate, or they get tossed to the big greens. For me, it was cooperation or a bullet. So I was taken into slavery and hauled around like a piece of furniture for about two weeks before they made their way out of the ruins and headed to a place north of here called Paradise Falls. Soon as they did, they ran into a few buyers. Moriarty was there, he bought me from the slavers and brought me here to work, and pay off the debt I owed him. Which is pretty hard to do when he also charges you room and board for staying in the saloon." he said, tapping his raw fingers on the counter. "Thanks to that, I haven't made a single bit of progress on my debt. Meaning I'm his lackey til he dies."

John looked at him, stunned into silence. After a minute or two, he finally shotgunned the rest of the beer and thudded the bottle onto the counter. Gob quickly grabbed it and began washing it out with a bit of sink water. "Haven't even met the guy and already I want to shove my gun barrel up his ass and fire."

Nova, who had come back into the saloon a minute prior was fiddling with the radio as they talked. The device was spitting out a lot of static, with only the occasional understandable word coming through. "Trust me sugar, a lot of people want to do that to him. Problem is that he technically isn't breaking any laws. Gob isn't actually a slave, he just has no other way to pay Moriarty back other than to work here. It's a scumbag thing to do, but you can't just kill someone for being an asshole. Otherwise, Jericho would have been dead years ago." she remarked playfully.

Jericho, who happened to be sitting at one of the few tables in the saloon, glared at the woman. Giving her the middle finger, he shouted drunkenly, "Fuck you whore!"

"You can't afford me hun." she said with a sly wink at the ex-raider.

John just smirked, then spun on the barstool he had. "I'll tell you what Gob. If and when I ever get my own place, you're free to come stay with me, so at least you can start working on paying off your debt. Moriarty might not like it, but he can't say shit about it without resorting to calling you property. And I don't think he wants Simms on his ass." he said as he stood and stretched his legs.

Gob looked at him bewildered. "You...you mean it?"

The young man nodded, looking at the ghoul solemnly. "No skin off my back...err...sorry." he said awkwardly, unsure if ghouls were offended by such expressions. "What I mean is, it wouldn't bother me to have you living there. And considering how often Moira wants me to go hunting for her, I won't be staying in it all the time. So there'll be plenty of room."

The ghoulish man just looked at the bar. "I...I don't know what to say..."

"No need to say anything. People like Moriarty thrive of using others for their own gain, even if it means you suffer for it. He doesn't deserve the hard work you give him." he said as he walked towards the door to his room in the saloon. "You can have the rest of that box of cakes by the way. Plenty more in here." he said as he opened the door. Gob just nodded dumbly as the door closed behind the young gunman.

After closing the door, John took off his shirt and tossed it on the bed. Using the caps from the weapons he had sold from his latest excursion, the new Megaton citizen had purchased more clothing from Moira, then some parts he needed for his drone hobby from a trading caravan run by an interesting character named Crazy Wolfgang. At the moment, his jumpsuit hung on the back of the door, awaiting for the next time he was going to don the armor given to him by the cheerful shopkeeper, leaving him in nothing but his shorts and socks.

His first order of business was the Enclave propaganda machine, which was perched on the chair next to the bed. Sitting comfortably on the mattress, he pulled the mess of parts into his lap, then opened his tool chest from Walter. He had borrowed a few more items from the older man just for this occasion, grabbing a small welding rod that ran off electron charge packs as well as a few rolls of copper wiring. Taking the welding rod, he gently opened up the faceplate of the robot once more, the reached in and pulled out a small blackbox similar to the one found in the protectron. Unlike the protectron one however, this one was encased entirely in the nearly impenetrable black metal.

It took about ten minutes of delicate tool work to pry open the blackbox and gain access to the chip, but he finally managed it. He delicately pulled out the old chip, then unhooked the blackbox entirely. When he was finished with it, the only thing was left were the circuit reader leads for the drone. Lastly, he took grabbed the new brain chip from the protectron and held it up to see. It was completely undamaged, but he was still unsure if the drone would even read the signals from the chip at all. Still, he was intent on trying. Suddenly, he looked up as the door opened, and Nova stepped inside. As usual, she closed the door behind her, giving him a playful look.

"Should I be jealous that you invited Gob to come live with you and not me?" she asked jokingly. He eyed her curiously, but just chuckled in good humor.

"You should be jealous. Me and Gob, we were made for each other!" he exclaimed, putting his hands over his heart. Nova burst into laughter and walked over to the bed, where she sat and eyed the mess of parts in his lap again.

"I keep seeing you tinkering with this thing. What are you doing to it?" she asked curiously as he delicately placed the flashy looking card inside the head and began to connect the wiring using the welding rod.

"I've been fascinated with robots since I was a kid. We only ever had one in the vault though, so I couldn't do much with him except make repairs." he remarked quietly as he finished attaching the wires. Within seconds, the leads were cemented in place on the new brain chip. "Now, I have robots all around me, and aside from the ones used by our good sheriff, I can experiment with them all I want!" he finished with an excited smile. "Besides, if it wasn't for this guy in Springvale, and the protectron in Super Duper Mart, I'd probably be dead. So I kinda feel like I owe it to them."

"So, you're putting two robots together?" she asked curiously.

He nodded as he closed the casing of the inner core, then began to reattach the faceplate with its new and improved screen. "In a sense, yes. I took the body of the Enclave drone from Springvale when I came here. Unfortunately, the front speaker was demolished, and its leads to the power source severed when one of the raiders shot it…" he said, looking up at her. As beautiful as the woman was, she couldn't hide the look of being utterly lost on her face. One of her red eyebrows was arched high while the other furrowed, exposing her immediately. He just chuckled and thought of an analogy. "It's like if you broke your spine one day. While you'd still be alive and thinking, your body wouldn't be able to move because the electrical signals weren't getting from your brain to the rest of the body."

"O-Oh! I see." she said smartly, somewhat understanding what he meant.

"Fortunately...or unfortunately depending on how you look at it, these parts in a robot can be replaced. In humans...not so much." he finished as he finally slid the screen into place and began to secure the outer plate over it to keep it from falling out. "And that's exactly what I did. I replaced the speaker with a screen, and replaced the brain, which was just the Enclave's RF interceptor, and replaced it with the brain chip from the protectron. The same brain chip which I spent hours last night customizing.

Nova nodded, watching with interest as he continued to repair the small bot. After another few minutes, he finally finished sealing the thing back up. Taking a long, thin rod, the young gunman poked it into one of the holes on the outer shell and slid it down until it hit some kind of reset button. The screen suddenly clicked on, making Nova gasp in surprise as John retracted the rod and tossed it aside.

 _"Running subroutines...hold please."_ said the voice in a pleasant, robotic tone of a normal protectron. Then the voice changed to a much deeper, more aggressive tone. _"Prime directive attained! What is this one's designation?"_ he asked, looking down at John with a red screen.

The young gunman eyed the robot curiously. The voice coming out of the speaker was the same voice used by the anti-communist protocol, simply known as Anticom. Thinking about it now, slapped himself in the head as he realized that the protectron was in its anticom state when it exploded last night. And in order to change it, he'd have to open the entire thing again, pull the chip out, then find a terminal and switch the anticom personality off. That was out of the question however. Instead, he turned the robot on its side.

"Uhhh...hold still. I need to run a few tests." he said as he pulled the cord off his pipboy and plugged it into the access port that he installed for the drone.

 _"Affirmative, red dog."_ said the robot as it began to filter letters, numbers, and symbols across its screen, testing the new addition. Once the screen test was finished, an oddly emoted face popped up on the tv. " **[ò_ó]** _Screen test successful."_ it chirped in its oddly brash voice.

Nova began cracking up as the robot continued to call John every variant of communist slur it could in response to its creator's questions. After a minute, she recovered from her fit and just sat cross legged on the bed, watching the young man at work.

He finally just shrugged and disconnected the pipboy. "Welp, nothing I can do about it now." he said as he reached forward and set the robot on the ground. Almost immediately, the jets underneath it whirred to life, and it lifted on the ground, turning to face them with a blank screen.

"What are you going to name him?" she asked curiously, surprisingly fascinated by the small machine.

John scratched his chin, thinking for a moment. "Guardian Unit #452, state your prime directive." he ordered as he stared at the hovering drone.

Immediately, an American flag began waving across the eyebots facial display, confirming that it did indeed work correctly. _"Prime directive 36:10:59:97. Destroy the red menace, and bring democracy and liberty to the world!"_ it said with a proud tinge to its voice. Once the directive was stated, the flag vanished, and was replaced by the emoted face once more.

Nova looked at him warily. "Are you sure he's safe?" she asked suspiciously.

John nodded. "I've reprogrammed his targeting parameters within the code itself. Anyone who attacks me, he targets. Nobody else. Unfortunately, I forgot to turn off his anticom personality, so even though he doesn't consider you or I to be targets, he still calls us such." he said with an amused chuckle. To be honest, he was ecstatic that the robot worked at all.

Nova nodded, then thought for a moment, the prime directive running through her mind. "How about Liberty? It seems oddly fitting." she asked.

John smirked and looked at the robot. "It certainly does. Guardian Unit #452, you're new designation is Liberty. Confirm." commanded the gunman.

" **[ò_ó]** _Affirmative. Original nomenclature archived and replaced with Liberty. A good name for a patriot."_ he said, floating and looking at the pair. Both John and Nova could do nothing but chuckle, each of them actually liking the personality it now had.

OoOoO

A few hours after bringing the small drone online, John was again sitting at the bar and talking with friends. Gob was watching the bar again, but this time Billy decided to join them all. While he was talking, the young gunman had ordered a "Plate of Meat" as it was called from Gob. When he got it, he couldn't really tell what exactly he was eating. It was extremely chewy, and only the small addition of spices had given it any kind of flavor. He just forced it down, resigning himself to never asking what it was.

The new weapon he had brought in from the wastes was actually the current talking point. Billy had noticed it when he had come into town, but with Maggie in tow, he didn't have a moment to stop and ask. But now he was here, admiring the coiled rifle as it laid upon the counter for them all to see. "That's some wicked heat you're packing there." said Billy as he eyed the magnetic coils up and down the barrel of the weapon.

John nodded knowingly before reaching up and removing the slug magazine from the side. "Most powerful weapon I've ever seen...I mean, aside from the bomb outside…" he corrected as he chuckled darkly. Then the young man dropped his stick, now clean of meat, on the plate and lit himself a clover. "Can't say I'm happy about having it though. A good man died to give it to me." he said before puffing on the cigarette. "But yeah, good to have on a rainy day." he finished, taking a swig of a beer that he bought off Gob.

Billy nodded. "Yeah, always the way it works out here. Someone's always dying so that others can live." he said with a sigh.

John looked at him curiously. "Maggie?" he asked. Billy looked up at him surprised, then nodded. "Care to talk about it?" he asked curiously. From the man's previous explanation, he figured there was something about the girl that was off. But he didn't like to assume the worst about the only people in the wastes who hadn't tried to kill him yet.

Billy looked at him, examining him with his one eye before sighing again. "Alright. You've been good to me and Maggie, so I guess you deserve to know." he said, taking his own beer and slamming it, before continuing. "A while ago I was working as a caravan guard. Went from Rivet City, to here, to Canterbury Commons a lot. Sometimes stopping at smaller settlements along the way." he said, accepting a clover from John. After lighting it, he proceeded. "Our caravan came upon one small settlement that was being attacked by raiders though. The caravan itself decided to skip the fight and head off towards another village. But me, I couldn't just leave them there. So I attacked, and they attacked back. Unlucky for them, they were a bunch of morons swinging around melee weapons, and I had an assault rifle."

Gob, also interested in the story, let out a contemplative, "Hmmm..." as he listened thoughtfully.

"When I finished, checked the houses. Most everyone was already dead, but Maggie had been hiding under the bed in her house. She'd been there for almost an hour before we arrived, and her parents were killed right in front of her." said the man as his tone started to grow more angry. John eyed the man curiously, but let him continue. "She had to stare at the bodies of her parents the entire time they were there. So, I found her, I pulled her out of there, and quit my job as a caravan guard. After that, I brought her here and have been raising her ever since." After finishing the tale, Billy looked back up at John, only to find the young gunman staring at Gob irately.

"What is it?" asked John, his voice implying he wasn't about to tolerate nonsense.

Gob looked away. "Nothin'." he said, clearly hiding something from them.

"Tell me or I'm taking the snack cakes back." threatened the gunman as he reached for the box.

Gob's eyes widened, looking down at the precious box of sweets that the young man had given him. He grabbed them defensively before looking at John. "Fine...it's just that...well...Moriarty..."

"Goddammit. How did I know his name was going to be at the beginning of this?" asked John as he rubbed his forehead. "What does Moriarty have to say about Billy?" he asked sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Aside from saying he's a Nuka-Cola swilling asshole?" asked the ghoul, causing Billy to chuckle. "He thinks that Billy found Maggie and is...using her." said the gravelly voiced man as he looked down at the floor. "He also said that he thinks Billy had something to do with Mister Free dying."

All humor fled Billy's face at the comment. "What the fuck did he say!?" he asked threateningly. John placed a hand on the one-eyed man's shoulder, trying to calm him.

"Easy Billy, it's not Gob's words." said the young gunman. "Don't worry, I'll handle it." he said forcefully. Billy looked him in the eyes for a long moment, then nodded as his knuckles turned white from the clenched fist he made.

"Alright." he growled. Suddenly, the front door opened up behind them and a man walked in, making them all turn and look. The figure had a goatee, with matching shoulder length sandy blonde hair and a scowl that would peel the paint off a wall. Both Gob and Billy tensed immediately, letting the gunman know exactly who this individual was.

"Billy." John said, getting the man's attention. "Go get Sheriff Lucas. Now." he said with a smile. Billy nodded and walked out the door, glaring at Colin as he walked by him.

"The fuck is he eyeballin' me fer?" asked the man before he turned to John, who was now sitting and facing him with a dark look on his face. "I see we have a newcomer. Welcome to Moriarty's Saloon." said the man, his scowl vanishing, instantly being replaced by a fake smile if John had ever seen one. The young man just stood up and plastered a happy smile on his face.

"Careful kid, he's likely gonna try to scam you for the info." said Gob quietly enough so that only the gunman could hear. John just nodded without looking at the ghoul.

"Mr. Moriarty! I've been waiting to talk to you!" he said in the most sickeningly jovial voice he could muster. But as he stepped closer, he began to noticed that Moriarty was giving him a strange look of recognition. Finally, as if all had become clear, the bar owner spoke.

"Well holy shite, it's actually you!" said the man in his thick Irish accent.

His words stunned John into silence. "Me who?" he asked.

"Yer the kid what went into the Vault with your pa. Now he leaves, and here ya are. Persistent ya are kid. Then and now. It's been a long time, kid." he said, a small smirk settling on his face. John just took in his words in stoney silence, trying to process the information that he was just hit with. "I suppose you'll be lookin' fer yer pa then?"

Shaking his head, and completely thrown off his game, John halted the conversation. "Yes...I am. Wait, back up. What the hell do you mean "It's been a long time?" You and I have never met before..."

"Aye we have. You were but a babby at the time. You and yer pa fled into that vault nearly twenty years ago. Now here ya are again. Right back out and into hell. Welcome kiddo." he said with a broad smile.

John literally had to stop and process everything that had just been broken to him. His father and him had been to Megaton before, and entered the vault when he was just a baby. Considering it wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility, he couldn't just discount it. But the Overseer's words rang in his head again, as they had many many times as a kid. "Nobody enters the vault, nobody leaves the vault. We are born here, we die here." Then again, the Overseer wasn't the standup honest guy that he'd like the think he is. So if that was a lie, then that means that the vault had been opened before, and that he wasn't born in the vault. Finally, he came to temporary terms with the claim, vowing to wring it out of his father later.

"I was actually wondering if you could tell me where my father went to." he said as a man in a pre-war business suit came in through the door and walked up to one of the tables. "It seems like you're the only one in this goddamned place that he talked to."

Moriarty smiled. "Ya seem like a nice kid, so I'll give it to ya straight. Yer dad was here, and now he's not. And yeah, I know where he went. But what you're asking me for is information. And information is a commodity." The Irish man's eyes shifted to the weapon that was currently laying across the counter. John could see a greedy smile etch itself across Moriarty's face. "I'll even cut ya a deal since yer fresh outta the vault. I'll trade ya that gun for the information."

John just smiled back as Gob's words scratched at his brain. "You want my gun in a trade for the information?" he asked in his former happy voice. Both Nova and Gob cringed at the sound. They had both come to know the wandering vault dweller intimately over the last week, on different levels of course. Yet they both knew that John was not as naive and innocent as he was when he left his former home. And hearing that clueless voice he used meant that something wasn't right.

"Aye, sounds like a fair trade to me." said Moriarty, a winning smile on his face as he held out his hands for the weapon.

John nodded and grabbed the weapon from the counter, then aimed it directly at the man's head. "Here you go. Take it." he said, the venom in his voice chilling the man to his core.

Moriarty raised his hands immediately, his smile gone as a wide-eyed look of annoyance crossed his features. "The fuck ya think yer doin' kid?" her asked, his tone unpleasant as well.

"I said take it." ordered the young man again in that lethal tone. When Moriarty refused to move, John lowered the weapon briefly, then kicked out with his booted foot, sending the man crashing into the wall next to the door. Any patrons nearby immediately scattered to the far corners of the room in horror. "I said take it Moriarty. Is something wrong with your ears?"

The bar owner held his gut as he caught his breath again, then looked up to find the barrel once again aimed directly at him. Suddenly, the young man's finger slid into the trigger. The Irishman looked up at the young gunman and saw that the illusion of a young, innocent youth was gone. Those eyes, while still inexperienced, had looked down sights before, and that finger had pulled a trigger before. Raising his hands once more, Colin spit off to the side and glared back. "I can see your pa didn't pass on many manners when ya were stuck down in that hellhole." he snarked, not daring to move. He didn't think the kid would do it, but he didn't take a chance with crazy.

"Oh, he taught me manners. But you and I both know that the wasteland has a way of scrubbing those away real quick. Don't we?" asked John, his icy forest green glare locked onto Moriarty's blue eyes. "Besides, I don't imagine many people would miss you if my finger were to slip right now."

"Howja figure that?" he asked, almost offended by the prospect. As if on cue, Sheriff Simms walked through the door of the saloon with Billy behind him.

"Sheriff Simms, Moriarty here thinks that if I were to blast him through the wall here, that someone in this town would miss him. What do you think?" asked John, knowing that Simms wasn't going to exactly love this situation.

"I think you should really settle this more peacefully. I just started to like you kid, I don't want to have to start all over not trusting you again." said the man, his arms crossing with a look of irritation on his face.

John smiled. "I'd like that, but see, Mr. Moriarty here offered to trade me my weapon here for information on my father. Now he's trying to back out on the deal." he said, never moving the barrel away from the Irishman's head.

"Sheriff Simms, if you don't mind me asking, if someone in the town starts spreading false rumors that could ruin another person's life, what would the penalty be?" asked Billy as he glared at Moriarty.

Lucas looked at him oddly. "Depends on the rumors I guess. If they're truly false, and could ruin someone then the perpetrator would get thrown out on their ass. Why?" he asked, curious as to where such a left field question had come from.

Colin Moriarty knew exactly where this was going. He looked up and glared at Gob, who was leaning on the counter with a blank look, eating one of the snack cakes that the new inn patron had given him. The man gritted his teeth at the sight.

"Our lovely saloon keeper here has apparently been spreading rumors that I apparently have alternative motives for adopting young Maggie." said the eye-patched man, his voice filled with daggers that were aimed directly at the bar owner.

Lucas looked at Billy for a moment, then his eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening at the claim. "You don't mean…?" he asked, almost not wanting to finish the sentence. Billy simply nodded, never taking his venomous stare away from Moriarty. Finally, the sheriff shook his head. "Colin, I always said your mouth would cash a check that you couldn't afford." said the dark-skinned man as he knelt down next to the Irishman. Giving him his own stony look, he said simply. "Now you get to clean this mess up on your own." Standing back up again, he looked at John. "Don't kill him. Whatever's left afterwards, can mop up the goddamn mess." said the man forcefully as he gave one last burning look to Moriarty, then turned and walked out the door.

The smile on Billy's face couldn't have been any wider. Moriarty was now sweating profusely with the absence of the sheriff, and the consent given to the gunman who literally had his life at the end of his rifle. "Look kid, a'right. I'll tell ya what ya want to know. Just point that thing somewhere else!" he said angrily.

John smiled wickedly at the bar owner, then pulled the trigger. Billy went wide eyed for a moment, and Moriarty nearly pissed himself as the microfusion cell charged the weapon. But it immediately died down with a loud click. Turning the weapon so that the wide eyed, snake-tongued man could see, John simply chuckled. "I took the ammo out before you ever arrived asshole. Now get the hell up before I take the sheriff's offer and make sure you never spread another rumor again!" came his voice in a loud, commanding roar.


	8. Dealing with Foreigners

OoO( 8 )OoO

He had made slow progress on his quest to find his father. Even if it was some progress, he couldn't help but be annoyed at the fact that it took him days just to move in the right direction. And once he had the information, he couldn't move, as his injuries were impairing him. So, all he could do was sit and enjoy his down time while he waited for them to heal.

That was why he was sitting on one of the pipes he had recently repaired, watching the congregation of the Children of Atom in the darkness of the night. Built into the upper walls above most of the catwalks, flood lights were shining down on the city, allowing for some visibility while moving around the city after sundown. They ran off the same power that the purifier did, which was the jet engine generator in the water plant building. Occasionally, the lights would flicker and go out for a few minutes. But if that's the worst that came from a two hundred year old nuclear slug then the citizens of Megaton should count themselves lucky.

Under the watchful gaze of the young gunman, Confessor Cromwell continued his sermon, advising the few who listened that the radiation that infected the pool surrounding the bomb was in fact a gift. He said that they should all give up the notion of purified water, and instead, drink it as it was given to them by the guiding light of Atom. John rolled his eyes as he stretched his arm out, testing the progress on his damaged shoulder. The stimpaks he had taken were definitely doing their work. But there was no doubt that every second he sat there, his father was inching away.

Finally, after so much stress about catching his father, he let it go. He'd find the man eventually. And if Moriarty was to be believed, then he already knew his way around the wasteland a lot better than John had initially thought. While finding the man was important, he couldn't just run off into the wild wastes without a plan. He had to set himself up first, make sure that no matter what happened, he had a place to go. Because as it stood, the vault was no longer an option. So Megaton was it, his new home. He felt like he knew its citizens better than he knew the people from the vault now. Then again, most of the people in the vault, he didn't much care for.

So this was going to be his home, the place he came back to when he finished business. Once things were set up here, then he could go running off after the man who had abandoned him to his fate in the vault. The thought of his father's actions had annoyed him so much that he actually missed Cromwell's big climax about eventually meeting their god after taking in enough radiation. Finally, he snorted from his nostrils and jumped off the pipe, walking away from the yammering deacon.

Trying to get himself out of a foul mood, he cycled back to the moment after Moriarty had given him the information about his father. Apparently, the older doctor had visited the town's saloon, asking where he could get a lay of the land, or find someone with current information about the ruins of D.C. After receiving his payment, the Irishman had directed him to GNR, a radio station in the downtown ruins. After the proverbial beans were spilled, the bar owner, with a sour look on his face, thought he'd take his ire out on Gob by snatching the cakes from the bar. But the man got the shock of his life, and John nearly doubled over laughing when Gob threatened the removal of Colin's fingers if he dared touch them. Even Nova had a look of impressed awe on her face at the threat, before she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

But it had been two days since that conversation, and two days since the healing process of his shoulder had started. Each day, he applied a stimpak to the region, accelerating his metabolic healing process. It was painful, but luckily he had meds to counter that as well. And soon, it had begun to scab over and weave itself back together. The unfortunate part about stimpak healing though is that it burned your body's energy reserves fast. Someone who used a stimpak to heal small wounds would probably be low energy for the rest of the day. Someone who used it to heal major wounds would likely fall asleep for at least ten hours from the exhaustion. The worse the damage, the more energy required. Which meant that he couldn't go gallivanting after his father until it was healed, or he would suffer from exhaustion in unknown territory.

As he walked past the clinic, however, his thoughts were interrupted as Doc Church opened the door and spotted him. Turning to the silver-haired doctor, he nodded. "Doc?" he asked curiously, wondering why the man was coming out of his clinic so late.

"John, can I borrow you for a second?" asked the short, dark-skinned doctor. The young man nodded slowly, then turned towards the door and stepped inside.

"Need help moving something old man?" he asked with a sarcastic smile.

The old man chuckled. "I'm about to move my cane upside that smartass head of yours." he threatened as he hobbled inside the house. John's smile faded, however, as he saw a still form laying on the doctor's table, the same table where the good doctor had removed the bullet from his shoulder. "We found this poor soul out on the outskirts. 'Bout halfway between here and the Super Duper Mart. He was beaten senseless and shot in the back." said Doc Church as he handed the army flashlight to the younger man.

John turned it on, then flinched as he looked down at the sight. Whoever the man was, his face was swollen beyond recognition. His lips were split open, both eyes were forced shut by the swelling. As John continued to examine the unfortunate soul, he saw that the shot in his back had lodged into a shoulder blade, doing much less damage than the original shooter intended no doubt. And he was skinny, looking like he had suffered malnutrition, possibly due to his injuries. "He's dehydrated and extremely malnourished. How long had he been out there?" asked John as he looked up from the sad figure.

The doctor shrugged. "Can't say for sure. In the wasteland, dehydration is a common occurrence. I was actually hoping you could tell me a bit more that my tired old eyes are missing." said the old man as he sat down on the table and propped both hands up on his cane.

John simply nodded, then shined the flashlight closer as he began a more thorough examination of the figure, remembering the old tricks he had learned from his favorite comic book hero. First, he examined the lesions on his face, then went to the man's hands and studied them closely as well.

Doc Church eyed the young figure curiously as he proceeded to look in odd places for answers, going from the hands to the scalp, where ran a bare hand through the unconscious figure's hair. After another moment of thought, John finally handed the doctor the flashlight, and Church moved over to the comatose form curiously. "Find something?" asked the older man as he began following the path of the younger doctor present.

"Nothing concrete, but if I'm right, then he's been out there for a few days at least." he said as he pointed directed the older man's hand towards the unlucky figure's face. "We can probably surmise that his bruises, swelling, and gunshot wound were the reason he was out there in the first place. If that holds true, then the green coloration around the edges of his bruises tell us that he's had at least a day or two for the hemoglobin in his blood to release biliverdin to heal the wounds." he started, getting an impressed look from the doctor.

"Good attention to detail. But the process of healing is different for each person. It's not a set standard, or else we'd know the exact time of death of every person on the planet." said the older man.

"Which is why I looked at his hands." remarked John, redirecting the flashlight once more. Doc Church held up the man's hand as he examined it closely. "You can tell by his fingernails that he was pretty vain. Always kept himself clean, took time to trim his nails, and even used actual shampoo in his hair. But despite how immaculately trimmed his nails were, they're extremely damaged from him crawling from where he was attacked." The doctor simply nodded as he continued. "Again, that doesn't give us time, but presumably he had crawled quite a ways if the only place nearby was Super Duper Mart. So it had to be at least a few days for him to get anywhere solid to where he was."

"Unless he was shot away from any civilized area." countered Doc Church as he eyed the young man. John glared back at him, and the doctor just smirked knowingly, as if challenging him. "Got anything else?"

"Both hair and facial hair." said John sternly, this time letting the older man move the light himself. "A man crawling around in the wastes wouldn't exactly have time to shave. He's gone well past missing a shave and already has a beard starting to grow on his chin."

"And the hair?" asked the silver-haired man, unable to counter the logic of the last one.

"Like I mentioned, he uses shampoo. Lord knows where he finds it, but he definitely uses it. You can tell by the texture of his hair." said John as he aimed the light towards the man's scalp. "It takes at least a few days before new hair growing out of the head is noticeable to the eye. You see it pretty frequently with people who dye their hair. After a couple days, the roots start showing their natural color again." he remarked, getting a nod from the doctor as he examined the roots of the hair. John then nodded towards the man. "His roots haven't been shampooed."

After a few minutes of silence, the doctor finally shut the light off. "Well, I'll be goddamned, went above and beyond with that one didn't you?" he asked as he sat back down behind the desk. John just chuckled as he sat across from the man. "Well, I'm going to keep him here until he can at least communicate. Once the swelling goes down some, I'll attempt to sew up his bullet wound. In the meantime, he's pretty much on his own. I've given him enough Med-X to take the pain away without doping him stupid. If you happen to run into anything cold in your travels, please let me know. Shit like this would be a lot easier of ice wasn't so scarce nowadays." he said as he tucked away the flashlight in his drawer.

"If I find anything, I'll bring it by. Did you need anything else?" asked John as he finally headed for the door again.

"That's it. Get the hell out of my clinic." ordered the old man as he headed off towards his room in the back.

John just chuckled as he exited the small shack then closed the door behind him. Suddenly, he stopped and thought about the doctor's request for a moment. "You've got a funny look in your eye." came the deep voice of the sheriff. John turned and eyed him curiously.

"Doc Church just gave me an idea. Is that bomb's core still inside?" he asked, earning him a cautious look from the older man.

Not entirely sure. I know it hasn't really been touched since it fell. Nobody is stupid enough to go digging around in it, and I hope that includes you." said the sheriff in a no nonsense tone.

John smirked at the sheriff, leaning against the rail on his arm that wasn't trying to heal. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kick the side off and start hammering away inside. Besides, without an electric charge, it can't go off. And after two hundred years, the circuitry in there probably can't even conduct electricity anymore." he said waving the sheriff off.

Lucas sighed in slight relief, relaxing slightly at the idea that the bomb couldn't go off at all. "What kinda idea you got then?" he asked, curious about what was running through the young gunman's mind.

"The generator powering this place, do you know what it runs off of?" he asked curiously, his gaze locked onto the bomb.

Simms simply shook his head. "Son, I'm the last person you should be asking that. You probably want to get ahold of Walter. He's the machinist around here."

John nodded, then turned and started walking up the ramp towards the saloon. "I'll ask tomorrow. If I try now, I'll probably end up with a wrench shaped dent in my head."

Simms chuckled to himself as he waved the young man off. "Don't go blowing us up kid. It's bad for our health." All he could do was laugh as John responded by giving him the middle finger.

After a minute or so, he was back in front of the bar, and opened the door to a comical scene. A wastelander was cowering beneath a chair as Liberty flew circles around it with his battle face on. For a small amount of non-lethal defense, John had installed a small tesla coil into the eyebot's bottom side, allowing him to shoot small stunning bolts at potential enemies rather than outright killing them with his lasers.

And at the moment, he was circling around the chair, taunting the man as he fired the new weapon at any extremities that the man accidentally exposed from beneath his shelter.

" **[◣_◢]** _Show yourself communist scum! You dare set foot on American soil and expect mercy!? Feel the power of democracy!"_ the robot taunted as it shot another bolt at the man, scoring a direct shot at the perpetrator's behind, making him go rigid in pain.

"Liberty, disengage." said John as he approached. The robot's screen changed from the red cross hairs to its normal face.

_"_ **[ò_ó]** _Affirmative."_ responded the robot as it hovered began hovering over John's shoulder. The back door of the store opened and Moriarty came out with a pistol and anger in his eyes as he looked around the bar.

"I'd be careful with that thing. Liberty here has a faster draw." said John with a smug sense of irritation as he walked over to the man who was now cowering face down on the ground. The Irishman glared at John after his comment, but made no move to raise the weapon. "Now you, you're going to tell me exactly why you were in my room." said the young vault dweller as he kicked the man over onto his back.

"W-What do you mean?" asked the cowardly man as he tried to move away. But John quickly pulled out a pistol of his own, smiling down at the intruder.

"Liberty here was guarding my room. There are only three people that he's been told to allow in. One is her…" he said, pointing to Nova. Despite the obviousness of it, she still felt herself blush at the claim. "Another is Sheriff Simms, and the last one is me." said John as he knelt down and stared into the man's practically watering eyes with his own forest green. The cowardly intruder was already wide eyed, but he managed to go even wider as Liberty peeked out from behind his creator's head with a glare. "So, since he's attacking you, that means you went into my room."

"That's not true!" shouted the man defensively.

"So I'm a liar?" asked John curiously, the gun held nonchalantly in his right hand as he stayed knelt next to the man.

"I didn't…" started the man, but suddenly, the young gunman put a finger up to the man's lips, silencing him, before aiming the gun directly at his leg.

"Shhhh...no more lies." said John in a deadly tone.

"I'mma have to ask you to stop pointin' weapons at my customers." growled Moriarty threateningly.

"Liberty, make sure he doesn't point that weapon at me." ordered John, who didn't move from his spot next to the man.

The small drone spun around and eyed the Irishman threateningly. " **[=_=]** _Draw if you dare, Maoist swine."_ The bar owner glared at the robot angrily, gritting his teeth at knowing he would never draw faster than the robot.

"Last chance before my finger slips. Who told you to go into my room?" said the gunman in his icy tone. The wastelander looked up at John in terror, then over to Moriarty, a pleading tone in his eyes. The young man smirked, then stood to his feet. "Thank you. You're free to go." he said, lifting his foot from the chair. "Liberty, escort the intruder to the door."

_"_ **[ò_ó]** _Directive confirmed. On your feet, enemy of democracy!"_ shouted the robot. Immediately, the man was on his feet and running towards the door to the saloon with Liberty firing the tesla weapon at his rear end.

John walked over to the bar with a small grin on his face, looking directly at Moriarty across from him, who was now sporting a large bruise on both of his eyes, no doubt courtesy of Billy. "Hey Colin. What do you tell a man who has two black eyes?" asked the young man as he ran a hand through his spiked brown hair.

The Irishman glared at him. "What's that?" he asked with a smug tone.

"Nothing. He's already been told twice." he said with a glare. "Next time, I'll set Liberty on lethal. Then we'll see how eager you are to send people into my room." he said. Moriarty scoffed, then entered the back, saying nothing else. "One whiskey Gob." said John as he turned to Gob, never losing the grin.

The ghoulish man just gaped at him, pouring his drink into a moderately sized glass as Moriarty kicked his back room door in and excited the main tavern. "You got it kid." John took the glass and sat at a table in the far corner of the tavern. Liberty had returned to the gunman's room after 'escorting' the sneaky wastelander away from the building. It was only after everything had settled down that John, after taking a few sips of his whiskey, felt as if he were being watched. He looked around the tavern as the eerie feeling dug at his senses, making him take another drink from the fiery liquid. Finally, he found the source of his paranoia, a man sitting in the opposite corner who was staring directly at him through a pair of shaded glasses.

John eyed the figure, wondering who he was, and what the hell he wanted. He looked like a damn car salesman with his pre-war pinstriped suit and pompous fedora sitting on his head. But despite his almost laughably sinister look, the most eerie thing about him were his eyes, sitting behind the tinted glasses that sat perfectly on his pointed nose.

After seeing that he'd been noticed, the man stood up and walked over to John's table. "Would you mind if I took a seat?" he asked politely. John saw that even the small details were immaculately polished, from his cufflinks to the buttons on his breast. All of the metal shined, even in the low light from the pub's single battery-powered lamp. Despite the well dressed appearance, even having the figure this close made John want a shower.

But, ever the polite one, the young man merely nodded as he lit a clover. Taking his cue, the spotless man sat in the chair across from him and stared eagerly. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked, taking another sip of the strong whisky.

The man nodded. "Perhaps, but first I must say that you are most interesting." he said in an oily smooth voice. John just eyed him curiously as he leaned back in his chair. "I've been in this town for quite some time now, and I thought I'd seen all it had to offer. But here you are, proving me wrong."

"Interesting how?" asked John as he cocked an eyebrow at the stranger. "What makes me different than any one of them?" he asked as he nodded towards the rest of the tavern.

The man flashed an unnerving grin as he set his briefcase aside. "Why, my boy, you're smart! You have a brain!" he said, his voice quieting as he grew more animated. "You repaired and reprogrammed an Enclave droid to be your guard dog after moving from an environment of nonviolence to the wasteland. You've integrated yourself, adapted yourself, in days time. That's what makes you different." he said, leaning back as he pulled a silver cigar case from his breast pocket. Opening up the case, he pulled out a Montecristo and lit it, letting the aromatic smoke drift around him before returning the now closed case to its pocket.

"Alright, I'll give you that." said John, just a bit flattered by the man's pandering. "But a lot of people have the ability to adapt. I don't think anyone would be alive today if they weren't capable of adapting." he said as he took another sip of his whiskey.

The man snorted, his expression turning sour as he turned a despising eye on the other patrons. "That's not adapting. That's surviving." he said, shaking his head. "Let me tell you the difference between the two. Look at you, then look at the other citizens of this wretched town. The followers of that nonsense Church of the Atom, thinking that radiation poisoning will get them into heaven. Or the siblings running the diner in town. One is a drug addict, stealing money from their own store to dope himself into oblivion, and the other two just turn the other way. The raving idiot who is so devoted to a government that left him behind years ago! A con artist that runs the inn with his slave ghoul! A twit of a girl running a shop that sends helpless travellers out to their doom! They aren't adapting, they're surviving! They're frozen in time as the world moves around them, taking from the world but never giving back! They are disgusting!" he snapped angrily.

John just stared at him with an eyebrow cocked, the clover hanging from his mouth. The man, realizing he had just gone on a bit of a tirade, straightened his back and began to adjust his tie. "Is that all?" asked the young man, slightly amused by the outrage in the man's expression.

After composing himself, the man smiled again. "Apologies, I do get passionate about the subject." he said, puffing on his cigar once more. "But, on the subject, since you are as smart as I think you are, I have a proposition for you." he said as he pulled the briefcase into his lap again.

The young gunman grabbed his glass, but decided not to drink any more just yet. He didn't know what the man wanted yet, but he didn't want such a proposition decided by drunken decision making. "And what would that be, Mr...?" he asked as he leaned forward and puffed on the black clover.

"Burke, you can call me Mr. Burke." said the man as he cracked open his case. "The task I have in mind has numerous rewards. In my possession, I have two thousands caps as a monetary reward for this simple task. As well as a contract, signed by Mr. Allistair Tenpenny himself that gives the signer free housing in his own domain, the famous Tenpenny Tower." he said, showing John both the contract and the stash of caps that he had in the case. "A tower which has...more desirable company, I promise you." he finished, looking at the ghoul and the young prostitute with disgust.

John eyed the man, trying to find his angle. Given the enormous reward for such an act, it either had to be near suicide, or something nobody else would do for specific reasons. "You still haven't told me what I'm supposed to do." he mentioned as he put the stub out in the ashtray.

Mr. Burke, with a look of shock on his face, nodded. "I apologize. I was getting a bit ahead of myself." he said as he straightened his tie once more, something that seemed to be a nervous tick of his. Reaching into the case, the sly looking man pulled out a small round disc that had a display reading on it. "This here is a pulse charge. It's a machine solely made for one purpose..."

"To send a burst of energy into a device, activating it briefly. They're only usually used for..." he said, then stopped as his conversation with Simms earlier slammed into his head. The realization of what the man was asking suddenly dawned on him. "Bombs."

"Precisely." said the man as he wove his fingers together in front of himself, making him look even more sinister. "Given your level of intelligence, I don't think we need to go into further detail about what the task is." he said, a sly grin on his face.

"You want me to wire this to the bomb at the center of Megaton, and set it off." stated John. Not a question, no, he knew this was what was being asked. The young gunman's thoughts began running a mile a minute through his head as he stared down at the small disc. It only took a small amount of time before the wandering vault dweller looked back up at the man. "Alright. I'll do it." he said firmly, a dead serious look in his eyes.

Burke's eyes lit up at the words. "Excellent! I knew you were the right choice." he said, sliding the small disc over to John. The young man took the disc, slid it into his pocket, then stood up, leaving the rest of his glass of whisky sitting on the table.

"If I'm going to do it, I'll do it soon." he said coldly as he looked the man dead in the eyes.

Burke nodded, then stood up as well. "Set the charge to remote detonation. Then find me to the southwest of here at Tenpenny Tower. Believe me, you can't miss it on the horizon. It's the tallest building for miles. We'll detonate it from there, with plenty of space to admire the view." he said as he stood up, holding out his hand. John smiled, and shook the man's hand. "I'll be staying one last night before I head out." he finished, tipping his hat to the young man. John nodded, then headed to his own room.

He waited a moment until Burke was inside his room with the door closed behind him before doing anything. Once he was out of sight, John looked around the room. "Liberty, follow me." he ordered. The robot's face lit up, exposing his position in the corner before he flew to his creator's shoulder. Together, the two walked out of the saloon into the night air. "Liberty, did you see the man in the bar with the suit and hat?" he asked, looking up at the drone curiously.

_"_ **[ò_ó]** _I saw the filthy russet. Orders?"_ Liberty asked, staring at John with his odd emoted eyes.

"Watch this door, from out of sight. If you see him leave this door tonight, come tell me without alerting him, then find him again and make sure he doesn't leave the city. Understood?" he asked in a serious tone, though he doubted his inflections mattered to the small bot. It took everything he said literally.

_"Acknowledged. Watchdog directive active."_ said the robot as it flew up above the door and hovered in place, watching the area below like a hawk.

John turned back towards the town and looked around. "Simms, hope you're awake." he said, before setting off into the darkness of the city's catwalks.


	9. Boomtown

OoO( 9 )OoO

John didn't exactly know the sheriff's schedule. Of all the people he enjoyed the company of in Megaton, the stalwart lawbringer was the one he had gotten to know the least. So he didn't know where the man went after his shift was over, or even when his shift ended. Considering he'd only ever seen the one man patrolling the town, there was a chance that he was never technically off duty. But he had to sleep sometime, so that's what he was looking for.

Unfortunately, he had little luck figuring out which house belonged to the law man. He started to get antsy as he took another walk around the catwalks, when Nova spotted him as she leaned over the railing, blowing smoke into the night air. Smiling brightly, she stood straight and wiggled her hips at him. "Ready to wind down for the night hotshot?" she asked playfully. But her affectionate demeanor was dashed when she saw the serious look on his face. "What's the matter sugar?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where Sheriff Simms lives, do you?" he asked, his voice rigid with urgency. It was so rigid that it almost sounded like desperation.

She nodded and pointed to the house closest to the front gate of Megaton. It sat dug into the side of the sloping hill of the crater, propped up on metal beams that were wedged into the ground. He nodded, then headed off towards the house. Nova, too curious not to see what was happening, followed him as she tossed her cigarette over the side of the catwalk.

When he finally reached the home, the young man immediately went up to the door and knocked lightly. He wasn't exactly sure if the man lived alone or not, but he didn't want to startle anyone. He stood, tapping his foot impatiently as he listened for something from the inside. But after almost a full minute, he heard footsteps. The door opened in front of him, a tired-eyed Simms staring at him through the crack of the door.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked the disgruntled man as he eyed the young vault dweller curiously.

"Sorry to bug you this late Sheriff, but there's a situation you definitely need to know about." said John in an urgent voice.

"Who is it?" asked a young figure behind the man. Opening the door, the tall, dark-skinned law man ruffled the hair of his son.

"Don't worry about it. Get yourself back to bed." he said as he patted the young boy on the back. With a disappointed look on his face, the boy obeyed and headed back to his own room. Once he was out of earshot, the sheriff turned back to John and crossed his arms. "Not that I mind your presence, but I do hope this situation is important." complained the immaculately bald man as he reached up and scratched his beard.

Still standing in the doorway, John reached into his pocket and pulled out the small pulse charge that had been given to him by Burke. The sheriff eyed the small device for a moment, and his expression changed from confusion, to a dark glare. "It is."

"I certainly hope there's a damn good reason you have one of those." said the sheriff, whose relaxed posture immediately switched to a much more aggressive one, with his arms down next to his side, and his fists clenched.

"You know who Mr. Burke is?" asked the young man, and immediately Simms turned around in anger, running a hand over his smooth head.

"I fucking knew he was trouble." said Lucas as he grabbed his coat off a nearby rack.

"He tried to get me to detonate the bomb in exchange for caps and a free room at someplace called Tenpenny Tower." said the young man as Simms threw his jacket on and grabbed his assault rifle. "What are you going to do with him?" asked John curiously as the man exited the house and closed the door behind him. As he turned towards the tavern, both him and the young man stopped dead when they spotted Nova standing just beyond the house with her eyes wide. "Shit…"

"He was going to blow up the city?" she asked, her voice wavering.

But immediately, John stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Nova, I want you to calm down, alright?" he asked, staring into her brown eyes seriously. But she either wasn't listening, or didn't hear him. Finally, he grabbed her by the cheeks and forced her to stare at him. "Are you with me?"

She slowly nodded, then reached up and placed her hands over his. "I...I am."

"Good. Nothing is going to happen to the city, or you. Do you understand?" he asked, still holding her face in place. She nodded again, letting out a comforted sigh. "Good. Me and Simms are going to take care of the issue right now, so there's no need to worry." he finished, finally letting go of her.

"Have you told anyone else?" asked Simms as he eyed the young man. John simply shook his head. "Good, let's keep it that way. We don't need any panic in the streets while we're taking care of business."

"You never answered my question." said John as they both began heading for the tavern once more.

"What do you think I'm going to do? I'm gonna lock his ass away." snapped Lucas as they turned the bend in the catwalk and headed towards the saloon.

"You can't just imprison him!" growled John in agitation.

"The hell are you talking about kid?" asked the man as he stopped and stared at the new Megatonian with bewilderment.

"Look, in comic books, the good guys never kill the bad guys. As a result, they always come back to cause more trouble. The difference is, the kind of trouble that Burke is stirring up results in an even bigger crater and dozens of people dead." complained the gunman. He crossed his arms as he stared at Simms. "One of the many lessons I've learned since coming out here is you don't give someone a second chance to kill you." he finished, his thoughts returning to the Enclave soldier who had put a bullet in his shoulder the first chance he got.

"I'm not just going to burst into the saloon and unload on his ass!" snapped the sheriff in agitation. "If he attacks me, then I'll aim for the kill."

"And what if you do imprison him, and someone else thinks that an easy life in that tower is worth this place turning to dust?" responded John angrily. "How are you going to stop every wastelander that comes into town from taking him up on his offer while he rots in jail?" He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer, eyeing the sheriff from only a foot away. "You don't want people knowing about Burke's offer because you don't want them to panic. Well, what if he has you and me both killed? Then it's just a matter of time before someone wastes this place."

"What the hell am I supposed to do!? I'm not going to fire on an unarmed prisoner!" growled the sheriff, knowing the new kid was right.

"When you have someone as dangerous as Burke hanging around in your town, you don't wait until they've done acted until you take them out." said John as his anger died down.

"Y-You may not have to…" came the meek voice of Nova from behind them. Both men turned and looked at her curiously.

OoOoO

It had only been a few hours since he had fallen asleep again. His giddy excitement at having finally found a tool amidst the cesspool of Megaton had nearly made it so that he wasn't able to sleep. But he had known that the road back to Tenpenny Tower was going to be a long one. In the end, when his shaded glasses reflected the light from that glorious explosion, it would all be worth it. The man's dreams were filled with the lights of explosions, both nuclear and incendiary. Bombs dropping from the planes of old like he had seen in the vids. Each bomb landing with a powerful impact. _Boom! Boom! Boom!_

The explosive sounds suddenly became louder, startling him awake. Her jerked himself upright tiredly, staring at the door as whoever the hell was knocking on it did so again, nearly banging the door off its hinges. Groggily, he stumbled out of bed and pulled his pants on. "This had better be important, or someone is getting a bullet in the ass!" he said as he reached for his pistol. But, a sudden crash from the door startled him, and made him turn to see who had invaded his room.

"Now now, let's not get too hasty. Why don't you just leave that gun where it's at and step outside so we can have a talk?" said the deep voice of Sheriff Simms. Eyeing the man, he could clearly see the silhouette of the man's assault rifle already in his hands. So reaching for the gun would only get him killed.

Mr. Burke glared at the man in the duster as he turned and faced him. "Is there something I can help you with sheriff?" asked the man, his mood very dark after having his sleep interrupted.

The sheriff just smiled as he stepped backwards out of the doorway. "Yeah, you can step outside here and talk to me for a minute. I wouldn't advise making any sudden moves either." said the man as he tapped the stock of his assault rifle with his hand. "I'm a bit paranoid at the moment. Don't want any accidents." he said with an icy tone. Burke knew that the man was being serious, and didn't see many options available to him.

He slowly walked forward, still in his nightshirt and pants as he glared at the sheriff. The low light in the tavern made him squint. Seeing the world through a pair of dark, shaded glasses 90% of the time had to have done its damage to his light sensitivity. As soon as he walked out the door, he looked over and saw John, leaning against the wall next to the door, with an overly smug smile on his face. Immediately, he saw his plans crumbling before him.

John chuckled as Burke's face turned sour. "And here people thought I was gullible. You really took me at my word." said the younger man as he leaned against the wall lazily.

Burke just glared at him, poison dripping from his words. "A man's word is everything."

"Don't patronize me Burke. The day I lose the trust of a man who funds mass murder isn't a day I'll lose much sleep." said the wanderer as he stood straight. "Now, we've got a long night ahead of us, so how about we put aside the witty banter and get this over with?" he asked as he began walking towards the door.

Sheriff Simms nodded after John. "I'm gonna need you to follow me Burke. I've got a few questions for you." he said as he turned for the door. Burke's eyes scanned his surroundings quickly, for anything that would help him get out of this situation. Finally, as John turned and opened the door, Burke spotted the firearm at the former vault dweller's side.

The man just smiled to himself as he started walking behind the pair, picking up the pace to get himself closer to the naive younger man. Once they were outside the building and on the narrow walkway, he spoke. "So what kind of questions are you going to ask? Smashing teeth in? Pulling nails? Cutting and fire ant nectar?" he asked, trying to keep the pair's attention on something else.

They both glanced at him with an expression of distaste. "You have a fucked up way of asking people questions, you know that?" asked Simms as he turned and began walking again. John just shook his head and turned his back on Burke in order to continue behind the sheriff. Looking down, the pistol was still there, calling to him. Now was the time. Reaching forward, he pulled the gun loose from its harness and smashed into John with his shoulder.

The gunman was sent sprawling onto the metal walkway before he rolled onto his back and glared at the attacker. But, Burke now had the pistol aimed directly at the sheriff, who still hand his assault rifle aimed low.

Lucas turned when John had fallen, and up at the man to see the barrel of a 10mm pistol pointed at his head. "Give me the gun." said Burke, his no nonsense voice now taking over.

Simms smiled darkly as he clenched the assault rifle. "That's not going to happen." said the sheriff, holding his ground. "You might as well just shoot me and take it from my hands."

Burke smiled at the words, then shrugged nonchalantly. "If you insist." he said, then squeezed the trigger. The sound was almost masked by John chuckling as he stood back to his feet, almost. _Click!_ The empty click of the weapon's hammer resonated through Burke's body, as if he was a bell struck with a large mallet. He felt a cold chill go down his spine as he looked between the pair. The sinking feeling that he felt at the realization that he had been set up was numbing. |

But he shoved the sick feeling aside as he spun around as a new sound approached from the tavern. Burke turned and stared at the eyebot, which now had a the same face from earlier on its display screen. _"_ **[** ◣ **_** ◢ **]** _Taste the hot kiss of Liberty, communist filth."_ said the robot, right before it unleashed a torrent of laser fire on the man.

Both John and Lucas went wide eyed as one of the lasers, apparently overcharged, ended up vaporizing the man, turning his entire form to ash on the walkway. The empty gun fell and clattered on the metal catwalk as the clothes flash fried away into nothing. Lucas looked at the robot apprehensively. "That's not exactly how I saw this going down." he said, a bit disturbed by what he had just witnessed.

John looked up at the floating bot, unnerved by the sight as well. "Liberty, tone down the kill factor just a bit. That was a little...over the top." he ordered as the face changed on the monitor.

 _"_ **[ò_ó]** _Acknowledged. Democracy per second output decreased."_ finished the drone, before floating up into the air again to hover like a sentinel over the tavern.

The two men looked at each other. "Remind me not to piss you off." said the sheriff as he wiped the sweat from his forehead as he watched the circular wind within the cone-shaped walls start to blow the remains of the man away. "Now, we need to talk about this whole bomb situation." he started, getting John's attention. "You've got the technical know how to make sure that thing never detonates. I want you to use it." said Simms as he reached into his pocket. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. And since you came to me with the whole Burke issue..." said the sheriff as he looked down at the quickly vanishing ash pile. "You deserve the house. But, in return, I want you to disarm that damn bomb so that this shit never happens again." he finished as he pulled out a key on a large ring and tossed it to the young man.

John caught the key, his eyes wide as he looked down at it. "Uhhh...thanks..." he said, shellshocked at being given the home for free. Then, he shook his head and looked back to the sheriff. "Speaking of which, I think know exactly what to do with the bomb. But, I'll need some help. From you, Walter, and possibly a few others if you can manage to find them."

"Sure, I'll have them ready in the morning." Lucas responded as he slung the assault rifle over his shoulder.

But John shook his head. "It has to be tonight, and it has to be very late night or early morning. Otherwise, there will be outrage." said the wanderer as he nodded towards the small enclosure devoted to the Children of Atom.

"Ooohh, I get it now." said Lucas as he looked around town. "I'll try and find you a few helpers. But I don't know how happy Walter is gonna be with being woken up at this time of night." remarked the sheriff as he turned to the catwalks and headed back up the platform.

"I think one night of skipped sleep is worth making his job a hell of a lot easier." he said waving the taller man away.

OoOoO

It had taken about an hour to gather everyone he needed to assist with the project. They all stood around the center of town, with John in the middle of them as they all glared daggers at him for having them out so late. But he stood in front of them with a smile on his face. "Ladies and gentlemen, today you participate in a renovation of Megaton that will forever change the face of this great city. I need your assistance in order to not only protect the city from future threats, but also to give you, and everyone else a better quality of life."

"I believe it." said Billy as he stretched his arms out. "Don't know why this couldn't wait til morning though."

"I believe I'm tired as hell, and wonderin' what the hell I'm doin' out here." said Walter as he tried to stifle a yawn.

"Oh quiet down you ol' stick in the mud, this'll be fun!" Moira snapped playfully at Walter. The odd shopkeeper was standing next to Jenny Stahl, who also had an unamused look on her face.

"Kid, I gotta hand it to you. I didn't think even you were brave enough to come and wake me up at night." said Jenny as she rubbed her eyes. "I owe you a kick in the ass later."

John just smirked at them all. "We'll see how irate you all are after we're done." he said animatedly, holding his arms out as of making a presentation. Then his mood suddenly shifted to a darker tone as he began scratching his chin thoughtfully. "If this works that is..." he said, not having thought of that. "But...well, let's get to work. Walter what does the generator in the water processing plant run on?" he asked right off the bat.

Surprised by the question, Walter scratched his head. "Well, it's running off a nuclear slug, uranium I think. The one that was powering the plane that made this crater in the first place." he responded.

John ran the numbers in his head as he stared down at the dusty ground. "Is there a casing on the slug? Like a gunmetal grey ring?"

Walter just shook his head. "It doesn't have a casing. The jet's engine draws power directly from the slug without any kind of protection, which is why we have a lead shield over it to keep radiation from flooding the building." said the older man. He stepped forward and squinted at the young man suspiciously. "Where exactly is all this going?"

"Walter, you are with me in the generator room once I get the new core up there. Moira, you, and Jenny are in charge of wiring. I'll assist where I can. Lucas, Billy, Lucy, you three are in charge of running these..." he said, motioning to a pile of heavy cables he had laid next to the bomb. "from the generator to the houses."

Jenny raised her hand, her grumbling tone gone now as she genuinely took interest in what they were doing. "What exactly will we be wiring?" asked the older woman with a look of hopeful wonder. John dragged a bag that looked enormously heavy over to them, then let go and shook his hands from the strain. Moira picked it up with one hand, startling the young man as she opened it. But everyone's attention was on the contents. "These are all...outlets?" she Jenny in surprise. "Are we getting electricity to the town?" she asked, looking up at the young man with shock on her face.

John nodded hopefully at her question. "That's the idea anyway. The slug left from the engine compartment is old, and was likely only big enough to power the purification plant. And because of the lack of a protective casing, it has degraded and is losing power. With the new core planted in the generator with its plutonium casing, it should last a hell of a lot longer. Not to mention provide more power."

"Wait wait wait...timeout. Where the hell are you getting a bigger nuclear core than one from a bomber plane? All we have around town are tiny nuclear cells that'll be gone in minutes." asked Walter irately. John just chuckled, then stepped aside, showing the group the bomb with its side wide open, the nuclear core inside exposed. "Oh..." said the older man. John chuckled, taking a giant pair of tongs in his hand, usually used for moving superheated parts from a furnace into a cooling tank. "I don't think the Church is going to like this..." said Walter.

John nodded eagerly. "A few steps ahead of you. Don't worry, I don't think they'll mind when I'm finished." he said stroking his chin. "Alright, so let's get to work. Cable team start running the cables from the back of the generator building to the houses. If more than one is required, just use another one and I or the wiring team will put in a repeater where necessary. Wiring team, start connecting outlets to the cabling anywhere there's a house. For the moment, they get one outlet. If this works out, we might add more." he said, then turned to Walter.

With a new air of excitement, the small group of people began working. Lucy, Lucas, and Billy all hauled the cables scavenged from the few remaining power poles in Springvale from their resting site over to the generator house, where they began sorting from longest to shortest, which would go to what house. Moira and Jenny began dropping outlets outside of the houses where the wires would intersect them so that they could install them once the cables were hooked together.

John, along with Walter, both wearing lead aprons and lead lined gloves, worked to free the bomb of its center mass. After letting the core loose, John pried the explosive plates away from the fluorescent green uranium ball. Once loose, he set them aside carefully for later. After finally extracting the core from the center of the giant bomb, both of the men used the tongs to pick the large green orb up and carry it up the hill. When they arrived inside the building, the pair slowly placed the core inside one of the spare lead boxes that Walter kept around for any tools he had to use on the generator.

With it safely stored away, the two of them opened the old core compartment on the generator, but had to almost immediately close the box again as the wave of radiation made their skin itch. "That's not going to work anymore...we have to dispose of it." said Walter as he stepped outside to breath. John sat and thought for a moment.

"It looks like I'm going to have to take the casing from the bomb as well. I was hoping to leave that for the...lovely people of the church." he said as he structured a new plan in his head. Finally, he sighed and headed for the fat man bomb again. "Alright, might as well get this over with.

After an hour or so, everything seemed to be winding down. Lucas had even gotten his son and let him come out to see their project unfolding. Finally, all the cables were laid, the outlets were wired to the main cables, and the previous slug was removed from the large warehouse. Walter felt his eye twitch as he heard the water filtration system power down, but just shook it off. It would only be down for a few minutes anyway.

John had finally disconnected the internal casing for the core from the fatman bomb and brought it inside the generator room. It took him another hour or so to hook both sides of the capsule up so that the generator could draw power from it, then another half of an hour for the pair to set up a relatively safe encasing for the capsule that wouldn't allow radiation from the core to flood the room. Once everything was finally set up, everyone gathered around the generator at a safe distance as John and Walter removed the core from its housing and placed it gently within the capsule.

As soon as it sat in the casing, the older man immediately slammed down the lever that closed the capsule over the core, locking it into place and causing several meters on the generator to start spiking. Before long, the soft hum of the water filtration system began to rise again around the room. Everyone smiled and Moira began clapping happily as the power readings climbed higher and higher. Walter closed the protective cover for the core, then turned to John. "I believe my work is done for the night. Wake me up when you finish." said the old man as he walked back towards the door to the plant.

John and a few others chuckled, then turned to the two women present. "You two ready to hook us up some power?" he asked hopefully, receiving happy nods as he knelt down and began wiring a heavy transmission cable from the generator to the power distribution box on the inside. Moira and Jenny both went to the outside, and began doing the same on their end, but with the distribution cables. Finally, one more hour passed and they all gathered around as the wanderer approached the outlet nearest to Jenny's diner, the Brass Lantern. The woman took the plugin that was hanging uselessly from the neon LED sign from which her restaurant got its name. The characters on the tubular sign were two Chinese symbols, according to Jenny, with made up the words Brass Lantern.

Taking the cord, she plugged it into the outlet that her and Moira had wired to the distribution cable. Almost as soon as the three pronged plug sank into the matching outlet, all of the onlookers looked up at the sign expectantly. But the accompanying light that was supposed to be there didn't turn on. There were a lot of disappointed sighs from the audience until Jenny looked switch on the bottom. "Huh..." she said, then reached up and flicked it in the opposite direction. All the sudden, the sign lit up like a beacon, surprising everyone present.

A round of cheering went around as the onlookers began to celebrate, but everyone was hushed immediately by the sheriff. "We need to keep it quiet. If you want to go ahead and put your installations in tonight, go ahead. But keep it down." he said as he looked back at the wanderer, who was now sitting in front of the bomb, looking at it like an artist would look at a canvas. "He still needs to fix the bomb up so that the Children of Atom don't lose their marbles over the core being stolen." The crowd finally dispersed, most of them returning home to install the outlets next to their home into the walls inside their houses.

Lucas walked up to John, a smile on his face as his son walked up behind him. "You know, if you're expecting more than the house for all this, you've got another thing coming." said the sheriff, getting a chuckle from John as he continued to eye the bomb.

"No, the house is fine." said the young man. Suddenly, he turned and eyed the sheriff. "So, are we good now?" he asked curiously.

Lucas returned the curious look, but knew what he was referring to. Ever since the young vault dweller had entered the city, he'd had questions about everything. His ability to take out raiders, his return with the coat and the gun, and his approach with the pulse charge that Burke had given him. He had no reason to mistrust the young man, but he also didn't want to trust someone who showed good intentions so freely, as it oftentimes ended with a bullet in one's back. But as he stared at the young man with the question echoing in his head, he nodded. "Yeah, we're good." said the sheriff with a smile. "That doesn't mean you get to break the law around here, but I'll stop breathing down your neck."

"Whatever you say Calamity Jane." said the gunman sarcastically, getting a true laugh out of Lucas.

"Kiss my ass road warrior. Get your ass fixing that damn thing before we have a riot on our hands." said the dark-skinned lawbringer as he turned away from John and headed back to his home.

OoOoO

Confessor Cromwell, ever the punctual vicar of Atom's word, woke up in the morning, feeling as sore and worn out as usual. His usual morning sermon took place with him standing in front of the bomb for about two hours before the people began to go their own way. And while that wasn't as long as he used to stand there preaching, his body wasn't what it used to be either.

He got out of bed to find his wife had already prepared a small breakfast of the Blamco Mac & Cheese with Cram in it. He quickly shoveled it down and pushed the dishes aside, before taking his bottle of water and walking out the door. As he walked past the wastelanders that usually inhabited the town, most of them seemed to be excited for some reason or another. Each couple of people he walked past were tittering back and forth animatedly about something that happened last night. He had no mind for it though. He just continued past them, brushing any nonsense aside.

But as he approached his usual spot, he noticed the crowd was bigger than usual. He wasn't sure what the occasion was, but it put a smile on his face as he walked up and parted the crowd with a few hands on shoulders. When he finally reached the front, the sight before him made him eyes widen immensely. The side panel of the bomb was now unsecured and almost hanging off its rivets, and out of the open space from inside the bomb could be seen a glowing, white light.

Terrified of what was happening to the bomb, the confessor crawled forward through the pond before standing and staring into the crevice in the side of the bomb. But when he did, he immediately looked away. "How long has it been doing this?" he asked bewildered.

"Started just last night. Saw it myself." came a comment from behind him. Spinning around, the old man eyed the youth, who wore a sleeveless duster over leather armor, and sported a head of spiked back brown hair.

After staring at him a moment longer, Cromwell smiled widely. "My children!" shouted the confessor as he stood in the water and faced the pulsing light. "We must pray to Atom, and thank him for this gift!" he finished as he crouched down in front of the bomb, his head touching the water. The followers around him, and even a few wastelanders did the same, all of them kneeling in prayer to the holy light of Atom.

Lucas just chuckled as he watched the display from the walkway above. As John started walking up towards him, he turned to the young man and smiled in amusement. "How'd you pull that off?"

John shrugged with a sly smile on his face. "Stole Moriarty's lamp from the room I was staying in." Lucas let out a choked laugh at the claim and the gunman put up his arms as if to start boxing. "Gonna arrest me for it?"

"He can deal without his lamp, and we can now deal without that bomb." he said as he patted the new Megaton on his armored back. "You know kid, you're alright."

"You're tolerable." responded John, who got another laugh from the sheriff as the pair walked away from the new sermon that had popped up immediately after Cromwell's prayer.


	10. Stepping Stones

OoO( 10 )OoO

It had been a week since the small settlement of Megaton had gotten power. It was the talk of the town, from the cold beer and nuka cola, to each citizen finally having lights within their home, all powered by the very heart of the city itself, the core of the fat man bomb that the town had gotten its name from. Though nobody really knew who was responsible, it didn't take much snooping to guess that the new citizen of Megaton had something to do with it. Which was why whenever he passed someone on the walkways they nodded with a smile. Or when he stopped by the outdoor restaurant, he was offered free cold beer.

Which was why it was a real shame he had to die. The mercenary had gotten word about the new resident shortly after the disappearance of his benefactor Mister Burke, and was ordered by his boss's boss, the big fat cat himself to check out the situation. And after arriving, it took pitifully little prodding to get the whole story. Burke was taken from the inn by the sheriff and this new little pipsqueak, then vanishes from the town and wastes altogether. Afterwards, Burke's plan to blow the place backfires, and now the city has power. Not to mention that the water purifier now purred like a kitten instead of sputtering like an old school beat up pickup truck. The timeline was pretty easy to read.

Which was why he was face down on a hot metal plate, sipping a cold brew, and staring down the scope of his sniper rifle. Setting the cold bottle aside, he stared through the lens once more at the door of the lucky new homeowner. He'd been waiting there for a while. He couldn't move freely anywhere, as the sniper up on the wall would spot him almost immediately. It took decisive movements to avoid his detection just to get in this location without him seeing, so here he stayed until his job was done. Unfortunately, the asshole he was targeting was apparently a shut in who rarely came to his door, and today was a scorcher. Not only was the metal roof he was laying on starting to heat up, but he had to piss like a damn brahmin from all the beers. Whoever this little fucker was, he'd better hurry his ass up.

He growled as he tried to refrain from taking another drink of the warming beer that sat next to him. "Cummon you little shit. Show your face." he ordered, continuing to stare down the scope. But all thoughts flew out of the mercenary's head as his eyes locked onto the lovely sight of a young woman walking up to the man's door. She was blonde with sun-darkened skin and the figure of a scrawny teenager. That didn't stop the scope from drifted down to her rear end. A slimy smile split open on his face as he imagined what he'd do to the young woman. But he immediately pulled his focus back to the task at hand as he heard her knock on the door from a distance. The girl had knocked on the door a few times and waited. The mercenary waited as well, his finger already on the trigger and ready to fire as soon as that face showed up in the doorway. A second knock, and more waiting. But there was nothing. He could see her disappointment as no answer came. "Where the fuck is this guy?" he asked his knuckles white as he gripped his rifle in fury.

But his rage vanished like dust in the wind as he felt white hot pain hit his backside, causing his body to to go rigid. Too stunned from the blow to stop himself, he rolled forward off the roof and landed with a loud thud onto the catwalk below, all the while holding his hind quarters in pain. "I hear he has an aversion to being shot in the head. Especially at a distance." said an icy voice next to the mercenary. The man looked up immediately, and sighed, banging his head gently off the catwalk floor.

His target was sitting in front of him in a small folding chair with a bottle of water in one hand and a pistol in the other. It didn't help that the little shit had a smug grin on his bratty face. "Caught me with my pants down..." said the man as he sat up, his sniper still on the roof above, and no way to grab his close quarters SMG.

The gunman just smiled wide at the words. "Not yet." he remarked casually as he set the water down on the catwalk. Before the mercenary could ask him what the hell he meant by the comment, a command was issued. "Stand up." Placing his hands firmly in front of him, he lifted himself to his feet, keeping his hands away from the side that held his automatic weapon. "Who sent you?"

The man just crossed his arms and shook his head. "Kid, you're pretty naive if you think I'm gonna be telling you anything." he said firmly. He wasn't about to buckle to some new blood who thought he owned the place.

The gunman just chuckled, unnerving the mercenary. "Yeah, I figured. This is where the fun part comes. Liberty, front and center!" he shouted almost merrily. From the roof above, a small Enclave eyebot floated down and began hovering in front of the mercenary with a cartoonish face on what looked like a tv screen. "I'll ask you one more time. After that, you'll answer when you snap out of shock. Now, who sent you?" he asked in a threatening tone that indicated that games were over.

He looked at the young man, and noticed that the grin was gone. That stupid, naive kid was no longer here, and instead was the man who likely executed Burke. The sheriff didn't have the spine to do it himself, and was always hiding behind his code of justice as his excuse. But this one, his forest green eyes had seen some shit. From the look of that deadly gaze, he'd already gotten bitten by the wasteland, and ended up biting back just as hard. Then he looked up at the drone that was staring at him oddly. He knew the Enclave eyebots floating around the DC area, and he knew what their weapon was. One shot with their laser could mean death, but death out here was a mercy, not a punishment. Then there was that odd screen...face thing. Did he find it like that? Or did he build that into it? And if he could do that, what else did he install?

Not really giving the kid the benefit of the doubt, he simply shook his head. "I have no promise you won't kill me anyway after I answer." said the mercenary matter of factly as he looked back at the new young citizen of the city.

"And you will get no promise. You seem to be under the impression that this is a negotiation." said the sitting figure as he rubbed his temple gently. There were signs of slight pain on his face, making the mercenary wonder if he was suffering from a headache of some kind, or if he was doing it because he was getting pissed off. "The rules state that if you answer my questions, you are spared from having to answer them under duress. You haven't done that, so now we begin phase two." he growled, looking up at him with those deadly eyes again. John just smiled again. "Liberty, initiate information extraction protocol. Male organic variable present." he ordered as he leaned back in his chair again, the pistol still trained on the mercenary.

" **[ò_ó]** _Affirmative!"_ The robot's display flipped away from its normal face and instead switched to one that was definitely more aggressive. " **[◣_◢]** _Prepare yourself communist dog."_ it warned in its rumbling robotic voice.

"What the fuck?" was all the mercenary could get out before he saw a small compartment on the bottom of the drone open up. Like lightning, a lancing pain shot through his whole body and sent him to the ground again, this time in such writing agony that he could barely see straight. The small bot continued to glare at him with that heated battle stare as the mercenary rolled around on the ground holding his testicles as if they had just been shot off, his mouth locked open in a silent scream of pain.

 _"Still loyal to the chairman red swine?"_ it asked, before unleashing another one aimed at exactly the same spot. When he opened his eyes again, the mercenary felt like he had been asleep for eternity. But he was still in the same spot, with the same fiery ache in his groin, staring at the same gunman he'd been hired to kill.

As the man got his bearings, the gunman leaned his head onto one hand which rested on the arm of the chair and looked down at him boredly. "You'd think with how hardass you were acting earlier, you'd have been able to take a bit more than that."

"F-Fuck you!" growled the man who felt nauseous enough to vomit right onto the catwalk.

"What do you think Liberty? Third time's the charm?" he asked the robot as a bit of his smirk returned.

"N...N...Noooo..." gasped the man as he continued clutching himself on the ground. "Please! Not again!"

"The nausea should wear off in a minute or so, then you should be able to talk without throwing up. Thus, you have one minute to rest before he reengages. Liberty, start a timer." he ordered, getting a shocked look from the mercenary. The man glared at the drone, one hand slightly reaching for the SMG. But the gunman's voice stopped him again. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. I'm a medical doctor and technician, and I know exactly where to aim to keep you alive." he said in an icy tone as he nodded towards the pistol. "Liberty?" The small drone's face vanished and in its place was a sixty second timer.

" **[00:60]** _Order confirmed."_ it stated with its tesla defenses still aimed directly at the man.

The mercenary finally rolled onto his knees and held up the arm that wasn't covering his family jewels from attack. "W-Wait! I'll talk!" he shouted desperately, his voice much more pronounced, but still shaky from the trauma to his manhood. Despite his words, the counter continued. "Alright! It was Talon Company!"

The young man cocked an eyebrow as he eyed the attacker curiously. "Why?"

The man just shrugged as his voice started to slowly come back to him. "Fuck...I don't know man. They paid me to take you out. It's in my job description not to ask questions." he lied slightly, not wanting to implicate his boss directly. He continued to stare at the timer ticking down on the small robot's face nervously. "You gonna stop that thing?" he asked fearfully, covering his package once more.

John just leaned back, scratching his chin thoughtfully as he stared at the sniper. The seconds ticked down, and the man began to buckle in on himself to stop the deadly warbot from hitting in the same spot. "Liberty, pause the count." ordered the gunman. The drone followed the order immediately.

" **[00:09]** _Order confirmed."_ said the floating ball of death, but it held the timer on its screen rather than changing back to its face.

With the timer stopped, the gunman had the mercenary's attention once more. "Sounds like you need a new job."

The man, his dirty black shoulder length hair now swaying around his shoulders, shook his head. "Fuckin' tellin' me." he groaned, hoping that the answer was satisfactory.

"Good, then find a new one. Because I'm not for sale. If any of your merry band of jackasses tries to come after me again, then they'll get a hell of a lot worse than what you just got. Understood?" he asked sharply in that tone again. The man nodded vigorously, knowing that the message would never get back to the boss. If he returned in failure, he might as well just bury himself out in the sand. "And you..." continued the gunman, getting a nervous look from the mercenary. "If you ever show your face to me, or come to this city again, then I won't stop at two. I won't stop until the sound of my voice causes you physical torture, do you understand me?"

The man's eyes widened at the threat, wondering if such a thing was possible. Whoever the fuck this kid was, he was serious business, and not the business he was looking for anymore. Fuck that, fuck Tenpenny, fuck Burke, and fuck Talon Company. If there was even the slightest chance that what he said could happen, then he'd start swimming for Red China by sundown. "I...I...I got it!" he said resolutely, his hands raised in the air in case the psychotic new citizen decided not to let him go.

"Good. Now for your going away party." he said as his deadly gaze softened into an amused smirk.

OoOoO

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" shouted the mercenary as he backed away from the large gates of the city, his hands now covering his manhood so as not to expose it to the sun. His armor, weapons, and even underclothes had been stripped from him before he was freed from the grasp of that madman. The only thing he had in his hand was a bag holding a small amount of food, water, and a gun with all of the bullets removed from the magazine. He'd apparently done that so that the city gates would be long closed before he was able to arm up.

John stood, smiling in amusement as he leaned against one of the gates of Megaton. "Sheriff, be polite and wave goodbye to the nice man." said the gunman as he raised his own arm and waved at the man mockingly.

Lucas, with an amused chuckle, raised his right hand and waved at the man. "Lovely parting gift he left us too." he said clutching the new sniper rifle in his left hand proudly. He laughed more as the mercenary in the distance made an extremely rude gesture involving telling them to kiss his posterior. Simms brought the rifle up to bear and aimed through the scope. "I think he needs some assistance in moving faster." he said, followed by the sound of the rifle roaring.

John laughed as the man immediately started sprinting away from the city when the fired shot hit between his legs. "Hey, it worked." he said, getting a nod from the sheriff. Before long, the man was out of sight and gates were closing behind him.

John turned around with a grin still on his face, until he saw that Nova was standing behind them. "What are you two up to?" asked the ginger woman curiously.

The sheriff turned and smiled at her politely. "Cleaning up Megaton. If you'll excuse me..." he said, tipping his hat to her. Then he was off to his patrols again among the people of Megaton.

Nova watched the lawman go before turning back to John, who now had a mask of stone on his face. The woman looked at the ground awkwardly as she stood in front of him. The two of them had an encounter the other day that all but ended their fun and flirty relationship. "Look kid...I'm sorry."

"Nova, if I was still a kid, you'd be in a world of trouble with the sheriff." bit back John coldly as he lit a clover and eyed her in annoyance. "Now, is there something you need? Or is business slow so you're looking for a customer again?"

From anyone else in the world, that statement would have gotten an eye roll, if it even warranted a response. But when the words came from his mouth, he might as well have belted her directly in the stomach with as painful as they were. She stood silently, still raw from the comment as she stared at the ground. "L-Lucy stopped by the saloon asking about you. She said she had a favor to ask." said the fiery-haired woman. She was older than John by a few years.

"Fine. Tell her to come by again, I'll be there this time. Don't wanna keep you off the clock too long." he commented in a frosty tone as he went to walk past her.

Again, the berating he was giving her felt like near physical pain. Not simply because she had come to see him as a friend over the last few weeks, but also because they'd practically been bedmates. He shared his first time with her, his first smoke, his first time getting drunk. Almost everything he had a first for was shared with her. He had practically become a best friend to her since he'd arrived through the gates of the city. So when he walked past, she felt she had to reach out and grab his arm, resting her forehead on his shoulder. When she spoke, her tone was sad and broken. "Please John...I don't want us to be like this forever. I'm sorry I hurt you..." she pleaded desperately. He simply stood still and kept his eyes aimed ahead with a thousand yard stare. Stepping in front of him, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry for leading you on, I'm sorry for everything. Please…?"

He stood still for a moment longer before finally cracking. Sighing to himself, he reached down and embraced her back lightly. He knew he was being entirely overdramatic with her decision, and had to admit that his request was slightly unreasonable, even if she refused to tell him why the answer was no. "Sorry, this isn't my first encounter with rejection, so I'm learning that I apparently don't take it well…" he groaned as his head throbbed in pain. "Once things settle down and I get it out of my system, we can still be good friends, alright?" She looked up at him with hope in her eyes as he smiled at her. "Now, go ahead and tell Lucy I'm home." he finished.

She nodded, then reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "You got it stud." she said, then made her way towards the ramp leading to the saloon with a seemingly new spring in her step. He just sighed as the pain of that day replayed in his head.

OoOoO

The day after Megaton had received power, they had finally gotten the last of the outlets scavenged from Springvale hooked to the houses. After the triumph, there was one last place that had yet to receive the treatment, and he took the job of wiring Moriarty's to the saloon. Not really because he felt he owed the man anything, but if he was going to be living in the same town as the Irish asshole, he might as well make peace with him. The addition of the outlet would save the man a good amount of caps on power cells to run his generator. The generator itself was already a nuisance because of how often it malfunctioned, which meant that customers didn't have lights, the radio was down, and they had to walk around in darkness. So when he offered the hook the man up to the new grid, he got a smile and pat on the back from the bar owner.

"Do it and you can consider us right as rain." said the smiling man.

John just hooked up the saloon's inside wiring to the distribution cable laying outside, but kept the generator hooked up for emergencies. After finishing the job, Moriarty offered him a free beer, which he declined. He wanted peace with the man, not to be buddies with him. Besides, he had other business to take care of. Elbowing Nova in the arm gently, he nodded towards the door to his room with a sly grin.

The woman smiled back and jammed her clover out into the ashtray before following him into the now fairly well lit room, closing the door behind her. When she turned back to her consistent bunkmate, she smiled playfully. "Is there anything you can't do?" she asked teasingly as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. But her question went unanswered as he wrapped his own arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground, causing her to yelp in surprise. Despite the jarring act of being suddenly hauled from the ground, the biggest shock came when he kissed her full on the lips. After pulling away with his giant grin again, he set her down. She reached up and touched her lips gently, as if she had never felt anything like it before. "W-What was that about?" she asked, staring up at him bewildered.

"Didn't like it?" he asked, giving her a mock offended face. "I was always told I was a really good kisser." he joked, his cheer not even dented by the prospect of being bad at something.

She had always steered away from kissing clients. In a sort of twisted way, it was more intimate to her than even sex, going beyond just fulfilling the body's cravings, or pleasing a customer. To her, it meant something on another level. Something she'd never really shared with anyone. Ever since she had left her home up north, she had pretty much been on her own. Then she found herself in Megaton, and a few days stay turned into years working for a man who became her ball and chain, keeping her from going anywhere else. In all that time, she had never kissed someone straight out. There was the occasional affectionate kiss on the cheek for customers she actually liked, but never once had she been kissed like that. Her eyes searched his own smiling face in search of answers.

Ever since he had arrived, he'd never tried to kiss her like that. Whether out of enjoyment of her taking charge, or from also believing in the intimacy of kissing, she wasn't sure. But it was a simple fact that even as they spent all night as physically close to each other as two humans could get, he never went to kiss her. So why now? Did he do it for a reason? "It's not that, it's just…?" she started, but stopped as she brushed aside her own thoughts to acknowledge the fact that he was practically bouncing in his boots. She cocked a curious eyebrow at him. "Are you high?" she asked, almost amused at the thought of the fresh wasteland jobber getting high at the first time.

The young man reached into his duster and pulled out a small iron ring with a key on it. She eyed it with the same curiosity. "Wanna guess what this is?" he asked, shaking the key back and forth on the metal ring. But before she could even fathom a guess, he blurted out, "Simms gave me my own house here in Megaton. So, guess what that means." he said, staring at her with his forest green eyes.

Him giving her that look made it feel as if every lancing light that broke through the cracks in the wall had turned onto her like some kind of spotlight. Unfortunately, she knew what it meant, and despite having slept with the young man in front of her, she felt more naked now than ever before. "You...won't be staying here anymore?" she asked as she felt a sinking feeling within her gut at what was about to happen.

"And neither will you." he said, his charming smirk returning to his face in place of the beaming smile. She clenched her eyes shut in pain as she leaned her head down and rested it on his chest. John reached up and gently ran his hand through her short, red hair affectionately as he looked down at her in confusion. "What's the matter? I thought you'd jump at the chance to get away from Moriarty."

Despite the safeguards she usually took with her clients, it seemed like her heart was rebelling against the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Listen kid, I appreciate the offer, but I can't just up and move in with you." she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "We had fun, and if you want, we can keep having fun in your new home. But…" she stopped when she felt him tense up. Looking up, his face was a mask of confused outrage.

"You've been in my bed since I got out of the vault, and all I am is still a customer to you?" he asked, desperate anger dripping in his voice. "I didn't ask you to move in with me for free sex Nova, I was asking you to leave here permanently. No more needing clients, no more Moriarty watching you sleep, no more none of that! I can now make that happen!" he spoke, trying not to yell in case the slimy bar owner was outside the door.

She couldn't say what exactly made her words so painful to say. Probably because he had been different from her normal clients. He hadn't looked at her like a piece of meat, to be chewed up and spit out like the others typically did. Hell, he didn't even make a move on her the first night. She had to open him up like some delicate flower that had been locked in eternity in the vault, before he finally gained the confidence to start making playful demands. Maybe it was that, and maybe it was the fact that instead of doing his business and fucking off to dreamland, he actually worked to make sure she enjoying their activities as much as he was. Nobody since she started here had worked as hard as him to please her. But regardless of how good he had been, the words poured out anyway, her insides wilting like a flower in winter as she spoke them. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Why?" he asked firmly. If he was going to be rejected again, he was going to have a reason this time. Last time, he didn't have the luxury of time to stop and ask Amata. But now, he had the time, and he crossed his arms, his green eyes glaring at her with the force of a laser weapon.

She was about to speak, but then stopped herself immediately. She knew the reason why, but telling him would only cause trouble. Not just for her, but for him as well. She could feasibly grab him and have him take her as far away as possible. But after watching the madman Colin Moriarty work for long enough, she realized that there was nowhere she could go to get away from him. He would find her, and she would have to pay eventually. It was sad watching him blossom into the confident lady killer under her care, but always knowing she would never benefit from it. "Because that's just the way the world works." she said finally.

His eyes were sharp, and the features on his face just shaping him into the handsome figure he was. When those same features expressed that look of pain, she could have sworn that her own stomach had decided to implode in protest. But the pain was gone in almost an instant, replaced by a serene mask of indifference. "I see. Was it always like this?" he asked, still keeping his face impassive as he stared at the door instead of at her.

She hesitated, then nodded. "That's the only way it could ever be. I'm afraid this is where I belong." she said lifting her arms up and shrugging as if there was nothing she could do about it.

Having apparently finished talking, John walked over to the bed and began packing his stuff back into the rucksack that he had come here with. She stood and watched him, the silence between them deafening as he jammed his clothing and gear into the back angrily. When he finally finished, he strapped it to his back and grabbed the long, exotic rifle from the covers before heading to the door. But before he left, he stopped one last time. "I'm leaving now. Don't stay too long, don't want to keep the customers waiting." he said, the words biting her hard. Opening the door, he left the room to see Moriarty sitting at the bar, fiddling with the static-filled radio. It was clear he had been listening when he gave the young man a knowing look. But John just snorted angrily and left the tavern to head to his new home.

Nova left the room and watched him go, then looked over at the Irishman with a glare in her own eyes as he just chuckled to himself. Ignoring the asshole, she went back into the room and thumped her head in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me? I should have known better." she said, thinking like her usual self. But deep down, she felt her heart hurt for a moment, knowing that she had hurt him, something she never wanted to do.

OoOoO

After the exile of the mercenary, and his meeting with Nova in front of the town, it only took a few moments to navigate the walkways to his home. He had already arranged the house to his liking when he got it a few days prior, and was pleased to find there was actually a defunct Mr. Handy robot lying on the floor. He hadn't had the parts to fix it before, but after visiting the now ecstatic Walter at the water plant, the man happily gave him the pieces he desired.

Tossing his gun aside, he stopped in the light of a lamp. He'd had a headache for a while now, but hadn't thought anything of it until he put the gun down and saw his hand shaking slightly. He just grimaced, and pushed it aside, wiping the sweat from his forehead from the hot day. He'd get checked out by the doctor later, but he had a toy to tinker with at the moment. Reaching down, he pulled his shirt off to allow himself to cool down a bit, then tossed it aside before grabbing the small bag of goods that Walter had given him. Plopping down next to the curious robot, he slowly opened the cranial structure before digging inside the complicated machine.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked up as he heard a light knocking on the metal door. "It's open!" he shouted, reaching over and grabbing his weapon just in case. But as he saw the familiar face of a young blonde girl come through the door, he relaxed, and went back to examining the robot's internal structure. Lucy was an odd character around Megaton. She, unlike many who drifted in here out of necessity, chose to move here of her own choice. Why that was was anyone's guess, but she had always given him a polite smile when he passed her in the saloon. So he had no reason not return the favor. Currently, she wore a pair of stained, green overalls with a battered white shirt underneath. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought she was a machinist like him. Despite the grease monkey look however, she had bright blonde hair that was always tied back into the perfect ponytail.

"Hello…" she said nervously as she closed the door behind her. Turning to the gunman, she was surprised to see him shirtless, and averted her eyes politely. But her eyes darted to the stairs as a small Enclave drone peeked out from the floor above.

" **[ò_ó]** _Stop right there criminal scum!"_ shouted the robot in its aggressive, anti-communist voice.

Lucy took a step back in fear, but John held up a hand. "Liberty, it's fine, she's allowed in here for now." he ordered loudly.

The robot looked to its creator, then back to Lucy, before slowly drifting backwards up the stairs and giving her a suspicious stare. " **[=_=]** _I've got my eyes on you…"_ he stated as he disappeared up to the second level again.

Feeling her heart beat rapidly, she looked down at John wide eyed. "W-What was that?" she asked incredulously.

He chuckled lightly without looking up from his current project. "Just a helper, and guard dog of sorts. He watches after me to make sure nobody in town draws a gun at my back." he stated as he looked up at the workbench. "Can you hand me those pliers?" he asked, giving her a small smile. The young woman nodded, then grabbed them and handed them to him before taking a step back again, not wanting to get in his light as he worked. "So, Nova tells me you've been looking for me?" he asked curiously.

"O-Oh, yeah! I was wondering if you could do me a favor of sorts." she said, slowly stepping around him to see what he was doing inside the brain of the odd robot.

"Well, that depends on the favor." he remarked, before yelping in pain as he jerked his hand away from an electric shock. She squeaked in surprise, her heart already beating quickly due to her encounter with the curious drone. But she began to calm again as he shook the pain from his hand and continued working.

After recovering, she began to fidget with her hands. "I...was hoping you could visit my family." she said, getting an amused curious look from John. She felt her face start to redden as the shirtless gunman stared at her. "W-What?" she asked nervously.

"Not even going to invite me to dinner first?" he asked jokingly as he set the pliers aside and just sat, elbows on his knees as she spoke.

"I didn't...I mean..." she said, flustered at the misunderstanding. Finally, she composed herself again and explained. "When I moved here, my family would write me every week. I'd send letters back, and the next week, they'd send one to me. It's been this way for almost a year. But...they've recently stopped writing." she corrected as she stared at him.

John noticed the worry in her eyes when she spoke about the situation, and decided to brush the playful joking aside. "And you think something may have happened to them?" he asked curiously, trying to get as much information as possible.

She nodded as the worry from her face now leaked into her voice. "It's been three weeks. Even if they were busy, they'd find the time to write, and at least tell me that their letters would be delayed." she said looking down at him. Despite her worry, she let herself examine Megaton's new citizen. Most of the wastelanders in Megaton, or out in the world in general were lean, but not built like he was. She had no recollection of ever seeing muscles like his, but her instincts drew her eyes to them regardless.

Finally, he closed the hatch on the robot, then stood up and stretched himself out, only making her look away again in embarrassment. Grabbing his clovers, he lit one before leaning against the workbench and staring down at the robot. "Activate." he ordered, getting a curious look from the girl. Suddenly, the robot on the floor twitched once, then its arms folded up underneath it. Lifting itself off the ground, it triggered its hovering mechanism and began to cycle air through the bottom jets. Once stable, it let go of the ground and turned to face its new master.

The robot's optics zoomed, then retracted as it focused on John's face. _"Good evening sah! Command?"_ it asked in a cheerful British accent.

"Give me your designation." he commanded as he let a cloud of smoke out into the air.

The robot's optics narrowed and turned red. _"I'm afraid I can't do that Dave..."_ John narrowed his eyes at the robot, wondering if he was about to hear Daisy Bell. But the red optics reverted back to their normal glossy black as the assistant chuckled. _"Apologies master. My humor emitter array had that one saved up for years. My designation is Wadsworth."_ it said responded in its cheery accent.

"Ha..haha..." said John in a mocking laugh. "I think you need to work on your jokes Wadsworth. In the meantime, run diagnostics to see if I missed anything in the repairs." he ordered, then he turned back to Lucy. "So, about your family, where am I going and who am I looking for?" he asked, putting the cigarette he held out in an ashtray he had stolen from Moriarty.

She looked at him, confused for a moment before finally processing his words. When it finally clicked in her head, she smiled and hugged him tightly. "You mean you'll go? Thank you!" she asked happily. It took her a moment to realize what she had just done, then she immediately pulled herself away with a face red from embarrassment. "Ummm...sorry." she said, her face redder than it had been ever before.

He just chuckled and shook his head in amusement. "No worries. So?"

She smiled at him and nodded. "It's a small settlement called Arefu. It's on an overpass to the northwest, pretty easy to spot from a distance. But be careful going up the ramp." she warned, the cheer on her face changing to slight agitation.

He cocked an eyebrow at her as he sat on one of the stairs leading up further in the house. "Is it slippery?" he asked facetiously, another joking smile on his face.

But she giggled at the joke, shaking her head in response. "No, nothing like that. But the guy that guards the overpass can get a bit trigger happy sometimes. His name is Evan King. Just tell him I sent you and he should let you into the city." she said, her excitement bubbling up inside her.

He nodded, an appreciative grin on his face at her bright personality. "Alright."

She looked back at him, then felt her excitement sinking. "Oh...ummm...I can't pay you unfortunately. Most of my caps went towards my new house..." she said, looking at the ground as her nervous fidgeting returned with a vengeance. "I...don't expect you to do this for free...so if you want..."

His eyes widened slightly as he easily saw where the conversation was going. "You can help me out." he interjected quickly, not letting her finish. Lucy looked up at him in surprise, her nervousness vanishing immediately. "Due to various reasons, I'm going to be leaving town multiple times, each time taking longer than before in all reality. So I'll be gone for a while. While I'm gone, you can contact me through that radio..." he said, nodding to his room upstairs. "If anything happens that you think I should know about, anything important, I want you to let me know."

Her golden eyebrows shot up curiously. "But...how will you receive the transmissions if you're gone?" she asked, oddly fascinated at the idea of being a town watchman. He simply raised his arm up and showed her the small, green computer on his wrist. "What is that?" she asked with an almost childlike wonder.

"It's a pipboy. They are personal computers given to citizens of our vault, and they can act as radio communicators as well as long as you have the right channel. So anything you say on my specific frequency will reach me, with exception to times when I'm in a place that blocks radio signals." he explained as he showed her the radio band menu on the small device. Currently, there were only two signals present, neither of which were labeled.

"And...what is your frequency?" she asked, so fascinated with the device and her new job that she didn't realize she was awkwardly close to the man. He certainly did notice however.

"Frequency 216." he responded, the numbers memorized in his head. "You can contact me any time on that band unless for some reason I've deactivated the radio function for discretion purposes, or as I mentioned, I'm in a place that can't pick up radio signals." he said as he went back to the home menu and lowered the device. "In the meantime, if you want to, you can feel free to make this place your home. Given that you'll be helping me, there might be a chance that you could be targeted by someone trying to get to me, so the extra protection from these two would keep you safe while I'm not here. I'll also order them to protect you and follow you if requested."

"But...why would you do all this for me when I can't pay you back?" she asked, her cheeks already tinted with red again as she looked at the ground nervously. "You're already doing so much…" she started, but was cut off when the gunman lifted her chin delicately. She locked up as she stared deep into his green eyes, immediately blushing brightly at the action.

"Don't worry about it. They stay here anyway while I'm out, and this place has too many rooms as it is." he said, waving his arms at the house. She looked from him, to the stairs which lead to a couple more rooms above, then finally nodded.

"A-Alright. If you're sure." she said, her timid smile returning. "Thank you." she said simply.

He just smiled softly. "It's no problem at all." he said, then turned to the floating robot. "Wadsworth!"

As if it were surprised by the sudden mention of its name, the robot spun and looked at John. _"Yes sah!"_ he said, saluting with his buzzsaw arm, making Lucy giggle.

"Are you ready to receive Prime Directive number two?" he asked as if he were a drill instructor.

The robot seemed to tighten itself up, as if it were an army recruit. _"Ready and waiting sah!"_

John then softened his tone. "Wadsworth, your second directive is to protect Lucy West with your life. This morning, a mercenary tried to assassinate me, and I don't want her getting caught in the crossfire. Do you acknowledge this directive?"

The robot dropped the salute and looked at Lucy, as if scanning her, then turned to John. _"Absolutely master John. She will be safe so long as the spark of life resides in this body."_ he said in a more serious tone.

"Good. Same goes for you Liberty!" he said, then turned to Wadsworth as if he forgot something. "Oh, and also, try to get along with Liberty. He's staying here while I'm out." said the man as he grabbed his shirt again and pulled it over his head.

 _"And who is...?"_ asked Wadsworth, but before he got his words out, the eyebot dropped in front of him.

 _"_ **[ò_ó]** _Liberty is the destruction of the red menace. Objections?"_ asked the small drone as it eyed Wadsworth menacingly.

 _"Oh my..."_ was all Wadsworth could say as his optics shrunk back towards his head.


	11. The Arefu Incident

OoO( 11 )OoO

It had been a hectic morning in Megaton when he had finally left. Gob had finally moved into the house, much to the chagrin of Moriarty. He had rearranged his room several times before he finally felt comfortable, using the assistance of some kind of magazine touting an olden Chinese furniture religion. He had even used his desk in the room to point out his centerpiece, a Vault Boy bobblehead he had gotten from a trader a while back. He spent probably the next hour just sitting and staring at the ever smiling boy bobbing its head, as if in some kind of trance.

Nova had come to wish him luck again, and somewhat nervously told him to keep himself alive. The gunman stared at her curiously, his arms crossed in confusion. Her body language and voice said that she cared for him, and didn't want to see him hurt. But he didn't understand why someone who felt like that would outright refuse his offer. He was still slightly sore over the fact that she had, so he likely wouldn't know for a while longer yet. Even so, he simply patted her on the head gently and nodded, comforting her by saying he'd be careful.

Then there was Lucy. He had underestimated just how hard working the girl was in their first encounter. After waking up, she had already gone above and beyond her calling by having everything he would need already packed into his ruck for the journey to Arefu. When he walked downstairs after waking up, he found her cataloguing several gifts that were given to him by the other Megaton citizens for his contribution to the town. She had even sent Wadsworth to Jenny's restaurant to return the dishes from their dinner the night before. He just smiled and armored himself up for the trip, wanting to get it over with so that she could have some peace of mind.

His last stop before leaving was to Moira's shop. The bouncy young shopkeeper smiled happily as he walked through the door with the curious energy weapon of his. She greeted him as he stepped up and set the energy weapon on the counter. "How'ya doin' Mister Assistant?" she asked cheerily.

Despite the cloudiness he felt in his head at the moment, he still responded positively. "I'm good. Was just hoping I could ask you a favor." he stated as he reached up and ejected the magazine jutting out of the side of the large weapon. Sliding one of the solid metal rounds free of the clip, he set it on the counter and looked up at her. "I was wondering if you could make more of these."

The curious woman went wide eyed and picked the small metal object up, examining it closely in the new light of her store. "Ooooh, it's so small!" she remarked. She wasn't wrong, the solid metal rounds were probably half the size of an assault rifle round in comparison.

"They don't have to be huge. The magnets launch it at speeds up to mach seven, so destruction is guaranteed either way. The problem is, those aren't typical rounds that I can just loot off any raider. The microfusion cells I can probably find all over the place to power it. But not those. So I was hoping you could keep that one here and make some more for me so that I'm not running dry anytime soon." he finished as he slid the magazine back into the large weapon.

"I think I can do that! All it takes is ferromagnetic metals to make more." she said as she tossed the small object into the air and caught it again. "The weight of this one suggests they are mostly made of iron, which can be scavenged from almost anywhere in the wasteland. So if ya bring me some scrap home, I'll make all the rounds I can out of 'em." she remarked with a large smile.

He looked at her in surprise, astounded that she could so easily tell the composition just by testing the weight in her hand. But he returned the gesture thankfully. "You're a lifesaver Moira."

"I do what I can. Besides, if yer gonna be rovin' around in the tumbleweeds for me, I gotta do my best to keep ya alive, ya know?" she asked as she leaned on the counter. As she leaned forward, he noticed a the same small patch on her arm from before. In the new light of the shop, he could see that it was a cartoonish looking fox that matched the color of her jumpsuit. He simply smiled, noting that it fit in perfectly with her personality.

Once he had everything he needed, he slid his goggles down over his eyes, saluted to Simms, then headed northwest towards the marker that Lucy had put on his map. Despite just starting the journey though, he found himself unusually tired and already sweating from the intense heat. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he started feeling pain in his shoulder again. He knew full well that the wound was completely healed. And phantom pain didn't hurt more than just annoy, so it couldn't be that. Still, he groaned as his shoulder throbbed, pushing aside the pain for the moment. He didn't have much Med-X, and would prefer to save it for when it was really needed.

After a few hours of travel, he'd finally run into his first sign of life. As he passed through a small enclosure of burned out cars, he was startled by a figure running up to him with a stained white sheet over his head. He stood rooted to the spot, not out of fear of the boogie woogie noises the figure was making, but out of the likely chance that he might be hallucinating this odd character. The sheet even had eye holes cut out of it so that the figure could see properly.

"Leave all your caps and weapons or die! BooOoOoooooOoooOooo!" shouted the odd figure. It took a moment for John to realize that there was also the obnoxious sound of what he thought were pots being hammered on in the background. Looking up from the single figure, he looked over to the cars to see that someone hiding behind one of the cars was responsible. But they unwittingly didn't realize that they were lifting their arms too high up while banging away to keep from being seen.

Soon, it became too much, and the gunman started laughing near hysterically at the thieves' antics. This had apparently set them off, as the ghostly figure in front of him began cursing. However, all banging of pots and attempts to spook him died down when he drew his pistol and fired at the man's feet. The sheet-covered thief immediately sprinted off, quickly followed by two of his cronies that were hidden behind the cars. Shaking off the laughter, he just continued on his way with an hearty grin on his face.

Though soon, he had to seriously question whether the heat was having its way with him. Back in Megaton, Billy had told him all about some of the creatures he'd likely find out in the wastes. Bugs were now gigantic monstrosities that spread like the plague if they weren't gunned down. Mirelurks were some kind of mutated crustacean that had spread across the sands, despite their need to stay close to water. And he had even told him about some kind of mythical creature that some had claimed to see out in the wastes, a nine foot behemoth with wicked, stabbing horns and teeth sharp enough to penetrate the toughest armor.

So he figured he'd run into mole rats eventually, but he didn't expect them to be blue. The strange creature was sprinting in the distance as if running for its life. It was hard to see clearly because of the throbbing in his head, but he could definitely see that it fit the description of the odd, buck-toothed creature that Billy told him about. But its skin was a deep blue color. He watched it go off into the distance, before shaking his head in pain. Finally, he gave in to the gripping pain of his shoulder and head, and gave himself another dose of Med-X. He'd definitely have to see Doc Church about this constant issue when he returned to Megaton.

Finally, as the sun slowly made its way towards the western horizon, he spotted the large overpass in the distance. Taking his long range weapon off his back, he peered through the scope to see what information he could get on the place before approaching. As he scanned the area, he noticed a few things almost immediately. At the bottom of the broken down overpass was a small cottage with a large area fenced off. But all of the livestock within the fence were dead, their corpses rotting in the heat. Moving the scope up to the overpass itself, he saw a man sitting in a lawn chair, drinking something from a bottle as he kept watch over the entrance to the city. This must be Evan, who Lucy mentioned before he left the city.

Checking the rest of the area didn't take long. Unless something was hiding behind the columns still holding up the overpass, then he'd be fine on approach. So he slide the large weapon over his back before getting to his feet and heading towards the settlement. When he reached the bottom of the cracked and splintered highway, he raised his hands in the air as a sign of surrender before finally walking up the pavement. Keeping his eyes on the road guard, he could see when the man first noticed him. He looked panic stricken, but had to have seen his arms up. The man disappeared from view for a few moments, making John stop in place and wonder what exactly he was in for. But he didn't have to wait long before that question was blatantly answered.

A loud _clink!_ sound could be heard as the man threw something down the ramp. John's eyes widened, and he reacted immediately, hurling himself over the hood of one of the burned out cars that had fallen with the road. The resulting maneuver caused him to land heavily on the other side only a split second before the device had gone off. The explosion rocked the car, and rattled the gunman's teeth, causing his head to start throbbing again painfully.

Now he was pissed. Grabbing the long rifle from his back, he swung it over the hood of the car and aimed at the sandbag barrier that the man was hiding behind. Intentionally aiming for the corner, so as not to hit the man directly, he squeezed the trigger, causing the weapon to light up as it charged, then after a full second, the metal round soared directly at the barrier and nearly tore it in half. Upon impact, the sandbags ripped open and flung sand at everything within a few yards, which temporarily blinded the man. Getting to his feet, John put the energy weapon away and drew his assault rifle instead, then dashed up the ramp as he used every second that his last shot had given him.

When he finally reached the top, he saw the much older man still trying to brush the grime out of his eyes with his own assault rifle still in his hands. Marching forward, John thrust his knee forward, dealing a breath-stealing blow to the old timer and knocking him onto the ground before he stomped on the weapon to keep it from moving. When the ramp guard could finally see again, he released the unmoving rifle and raised his hands. "Now son, don't do anything hasty."

John's nostrils flared in rage at the words. "Stand up." he ordered in a threatening tone. Slowly, the man stood to his feet with his hands still raised. As soon as he was up again, John whipped the butt of his assault rifle against the man's chin, smashing him backwards into the seat he had been occupying previously. "I walked up the ramp with my hands up in surrender, and you threw a goddamn grenade at me! And now you have the gall to tell me not to do anything hasty!?" he asked, almost outraged at the man's hypocrisy.

The old man, though stunned by the blow, reached up and held his jaw painfully. "I'm sorry young'n. I thought you were a member of the Family! They've been attacking us non stop lately, so I've been so jumpy!" said the old man as he defended himself.

"Have the Family ever come up the ramp with their hands up?" asked John with a dark glare. It looked like he had the man cornered.

"W-Well...no...but…" started the guard, but John cut him off.

"Didn't think so." he growled as he kicked the man's assault rifle back to him. "Next time, watch what you're doing before you resort to the big guns. Your knee-jerk reaction almost got me killed." he ordered, getting a nod from the old man as he leaned down to pick up his weapon. The man didn't have any armor on, just regular waster clothes with a D.C. Dazzlers baseball cap on. "Now, explain to me who the hell the Family are, and why they almost got me killed."

The old man just sat down in his lawn chair and exhaled deeply. He had dark reddish hair that was now streaked with grey, and a mustache and beard combination to match. His skin was worn and leathery, and he had a look in his eyes that spoke of an everlasting tiredness. "They're a group of hooligans in these parts. Almost every day they come out here in the afternoon before sunset and harass us. They shoot at us, shoot at our houses, and shoot at our cattle." said the older man as he nodded towards the pen of dead brahmin at the bottom of the ramp. "I don't know why, they never take nothin', they never stick around for more than an hour. They just seem to enjoy tormenting us." he said with a heavy sigh.

"Have they ever tried coming up the ramp?" asked John as he eyed the man curiously.

The man nodded slightly, taking his baseball cap off to wipe the sweat from his brow before replacing it. "Only occasionally. They sometimes come up and I have to have everyone retreat into their houses. Then they start banging on the doors and yelling at us to give them our drugs and caps." he remarked as he looked up at the young man. "By the way, the name's Evan King."

"John Ronas." said the gunman as he sat on the remaining sandbags. "So, here's the situation. I'm here because Lucy West asked me to visit her family and check up on them. Are they around?"

At hearing Lucy's name, the man immediately perked up. "Ah, Lucy. Good to hear she's doin' alright." he said, a sigh of relief escaping him as he relaxed in his chair. "I was worried about her leaving here, didn't know if she'd make it all the way to Megaton."

John nodded as he lit a clover from the box in his duster. "She did, she's fine. Can you point me to her parents?"

Evan nodded and pointed back to one of the ramshackle houses lining the former highway. "At the far back, on the left side. But try not to disturb them too much, they closed themselves off a while back sayin' their son was ill." he said, then snapped his head back towards John. "Oh, by the way, can you do me a favor?"

John turned back to him, looking at him curiously. "Depends on the favor I suppose?"

"Can you check on the others, and make sure they have everything they need? When you came up the road, the Ewers and Miss Schenzy all took off in a hurry to get inside." he said. John nodded, then turned back to the houses. "Thanks!"

As John approached the first door, he reached up and knocked on the wooden barrier. "Hello?" came a dreamy voice from the other side. "Is that the mailman with my seasonal catalogue?"

John stood for a moment, stunned at the question. "Uhhh...no. Evan King sent me to make sure you all are alright." he said, his voice ending as if he asked a question rather than made a statement.

"Oh, Evan! What a sweetheart!" said the voice before it was abruptly cut off. From the sound of the scuffle on the other side, the woman who answered was being pulled away from the door. After a moment, a man's voice came through the wood.

"What the fuck do you want?" came the voice, annoyance dripping from it.

"Evan sent me to check on you. Everything alright in there?" asked the gunman, slightly amused at the man's rude tone, a contrast to the woman's.

"Yeah, we're fucking fine. All safe with our thumbs up our asses. Now get lost." responded the man angrily.

John just chuckled and walked away from the door. "Stay safe!" he said, then tried the next door. He knocked on the wood, and was rewarded with the sound of a surprised woman.

"Hello? Evan?" asked the female, who, no surprise, did not open the door immediately.

"Not Evan, but he sent me to check on you. See if you're alright." said John as he puffed at a cigarette he had just taken out and lit.

The woman at the door sounded skeptical. "How do I know that you're not actually a raider that's trying to get me to open the door?" she asked suspiciously.

John chuckled. "If I was, would I have knocked?" he asked in amusement.

"Maybe you're a polite raider." she said, making him chuckle jovially at her suspicious nature. Though, given what Evan had told him, she was right to be si inquisitive.

"Miss Schenzy, I have a high powered energy weapon on my back right now. If I wanted to get you, I'd already have you right now." he said confidently. "I'm just here to make sure you're safe, and have everything you need." Apparently the reality of the situation clicked in her head, because the door opened slowly, with the eye of a small woman peeking out of the crack. Despite the small amount of visual he had, he still managed to see that the woman had dirty blonde hair that was unkempt and ruffled, likely a result of the rush for her house. She looked up and saw him smiling and staring down at her.

"Oh!" was all she said. The tone she said it in piqued John's curiosity as well. Lost in his wonder, he stepped back slightly as she closed the door. When it opened again, it was wide this time. And in the doorway, he saw her, the young man startled by her appearance. Her disheveled hair was gone, replaced by a recently brushed, flat, wave of dirty blonde. The outfit she wore, while pretty commonplace in the wasteland, was recently modified so that the collar of the shirt sunk lower, exposing a small amount of cleavage. He now eyed her suspiciously as she leaned against the doorway.

In contrast to her former appearance, she was no longer the timid, fearful woman that she had been on the other side of the door. Now, she was confident, and eying him hungrily. "Ma'am?"

"Please, call me Karen. So, mister not-a-raider, care to come inside?" she asked playfully. He just nodded dumbly and walked into the small dwelling. It wasn't very bright inside, but there was light enough for his jaw to nearly hit the floor when he walked in. All around the walls were weapons of all kinds. From long-barreled rifles, to pistols, to shotguns, axes, to an entire table full of grenades, to a chainsaw sitting at the foot of her bed. She walked in front of him as he gawked at all of the equipment. "Like something you see cowboy?"

He looked down at her, and saw her in a whole new light. No longer was she the suspicious mousy figure that was hiding behind a door. The sudden realization that she could have blasted both him and the door in half with some of these weapons humbled him slightly. He just smiled down at her nervously. "Nice collection." was all he responded with.

She smirked, and walked off, mock pouting. "Not exactly what I was talking about...but thanks." she said as she sat down on the bed. She patted the mattress next to her, and the gunman walked over and slowly sat down, now wondering what exactly she had in mind for him.

"Evan sent me to check on you. I can see that you're...alright..." he stated, his eyes wide as she turned towards him, practically shoving her low-cut shirt into his visual range. "But, do you have everything you need?" he asked, noticing that she had scooted over closer to him.

She gave a very cat-like smile. "Oh, I do now..."

OoOoO

Half an hour after entering the house, the gunman stumbled out of it, his usually uncontrollably spiked hair now disheveled with a goofy grin on his face. Turning around, he looked at the woman now standing in the doorway once more, the smile of a tigress on her smirking lips.

"Wow, that was...unexpected." he said appreciatively to her. Despite her meek appearance, she was quite aggressive.

"Enjoyable as well I hope." she purred as she leaned against the door again.

He just chuckled as he reached up and fixed his hair as much as he could. "Unexpected definitely doesn't mean bad." he said, lighting himself another clover. Ever since his encounter in the tavern with Nova, he hadn't been with a woman, likely making him a bit pent up after the regimen that the fiery-haired woman put him through stopped. Karen immediately reached forward and stole the last one from the box, then turned and went back into the house.

"Good. Check in on me again sometime mister not-a-raider." she ordered, then closed the door behind her. He shook his head, almost not believing that the whole occurrence had happened. There were only two more houses. One, he knew was the West's from what Evan had told him. And the other, he assumed belonged to Mr. King himself. Finishing off the cigarette he held, he tossed it off the overpass before walking up to the door of the West's and knocking.

"Hello? Mister West? Misses West?" he shouted through the door, but there was no response. He walked over to the side of the highway and looked over the edge, where there was a square window, open to the daylight. He didn't see any movement inside, but saw a curious set of stains on the concrete below the house. He returned to the door and pounded on it this time. "Hello!" he shouted, his gut telling him something was wrong. When he determined that no response was forthcoming, he pushed on the door, but it didn't budge. Taking the handle, he slammed his shoulder into it, causing it to move slightly. Pulling back, he threw himself fully at the door. When his shoulder impacted, there was a loud crash from the inside, but the door finally, though reluctantly, swung open as it pushed a large shelf out of the way, knocking whatever was on it onto the floor.

Immediately, the smell assaulted him. The odor of decay slammed into his senses like a sledgehammer, making him immediately turn away from the house. He walked over and leaned over the road guard, just in case he ended up losing his measly lunch. It took a few minutes before his gag reflex calmed down, but he approached the door again when it did, this time smiling widely.

When he was younger, his dad had allowed him to stand in on an autopsy of an older vault dweller. The old man had passed in his sleep, and as such, hadn't been visited for a good while. When they finally found him, the smell of death had set in, almost choking John when he first saw the body. His father just smiled and ruffled his already spiking hair. _"Smile kiddo."_ he said, in that smooth voice of his.

John just looked up at him bewildered. _"Why would I smile?"_ he asked, horrified at the prospect of smiling at someone's death.

James just smiled down at his fourteen year old son. _"Because, when you smile, your gag reflex is suppressed, making it so you don't choke as much."_ said the doctor his own smile wider than John had ever seen it before. The boy looked up at him oddly, then tried it himself. And while the smell, and the sight still repulsed him, it did keep him from gagging.

Now, many years older, and in much different circumstances than with old man Willis, he walked back into the house, a giant grin on his face. He looked around the small apartment. There were two bodies, one female on the bed, and one male on the ground. Both had been horribly mutilated in the throat and facial area. The woman had her arms hanging off the side of the bed, revealing bad bruising on the insides of her wrists. Likely, she had tried to defend herself against whatever had done this to them. He walked over carefully, stepping over the body of Lucy's father, then picked up her hand. Examining it carefully using his pipboy light, he confirmed that there were no animal hairs underneath her fingers. In fact, there was no blood on her hands at all, leading him to believe that whatever had done this to her hand held her down until she passed.

"Humans..." he said as he saw the skin beneath her nails. Letting her hand go, he began to examine the room a little more. Immediately, two things about the scene didn't add up. Ian, Lucy's brother was not among the bodies. He was nowhere to be found. Traces of him could be seen around the room, a pair of ratty sneakers next to a set of bunk beds, a smaller shirt than either the mother or father could wear. But he was nowhere to be seen.

The second thing that clicked in John's head was the lack of blood. The parents' throats had been torn out practically, meaning that the jugular would have sent arterial blood spray soaring across the room, painting walls, beds, and furniture with the rich red fluid of life. But there was barely any. Beneath the bodies, there was a small pool here and there, or some drops nearby where the arms had been nicked in the scuffle.

Finally, having all the information he needed from the room, he left, and closed the door again. He just stood there for a moment, the rest of his clover burning out as he stared at the ground, his smile now gone. He tossed the butt of the carcinogenic stick over the edge and began walking with a purpose, straight to where Evan King sat in his chair.

As he approached, Evan went to stand, but John waved him off. "How are they doing?" asked the older man curiously.

"The Ewers are...interesting, but fine. Miss Schenzy is...more than fine. And the Wests are dead." he said. Evan nodded knowingly, then froze when the words registered in his brain.

"Dead?" he asked, a horrified expression on his face. John simply nodded in response. "Dead dead?"

"Dead, deceased, departed! They are no longer alive!" said the gunman as he clenched his fist in despair, imagining what delivering the news to the late couple's daughter was going to be like.

The elder stared at the young man in shock. "H-How?"

Both of the parents had their throats torn out by someone or something. As for Ian, he's nowhere to be found." he said, his stomach churning at the implication.

Evan just slumped in his chair. "How? How could this have happened? Nobody got past me..." he said as if questioning his own existence.

"I don't know for sure, but whoever did it never left through the front door. There was a shelf blocking it when I first went in, so they had to go out through the window. There were also stains that looked like blood leading down the column holding up the overpass, so that's the most likely scenario." said John as he reached for his clovers. He patted his pockets, then remembered the wild woman stealing his last one.

Evan looked up at him with desperation. "It...it had to be the Family. They had to have done this! Who else could it be?" he asked, looking at the ground as if trying to find the answer in the pavement. Finally, he looked up to John. "Please, you have to find them and get Ian back! There's no telling what they could do to him!" said the older man, who grabbed John's arm desperately.

John sighed and nodded thoughtfully. He didn't like the idea of throwing himself willingly at yet another raider group, but he did seem to have a talent for ending them. Not to mention he'd never be able to look Lucy in the eyes again if he didn't at least find out what happened to her brother. "Fine, but I'm going to need a few things before I do. I'm not going to take on an entire group called "The Family" without some assurance that I'm going in well armed."

Evan nodded. "Karen has some weapons, she should be able to help you out." said the old man, who looked at him oddly as the John chuckled dryly. "Why are you laughing?"

"We'll see..." was all the gunman said as he walked back to the lone woman's house.


	12. Fangs in the Darkness

OoO( 12 )OoO

After he had finished 'negotiating' with Miss Schenzy about borrowing some of her weapons, the former vault dweller found himself at the bottom of the column where the blood stains ended. Looking at the dirt, it was apparent that there were several sets of footprints leading to the northeast. Using his pipboy light sparingly to keep from being seen in the darkness, he kept track of the footprints as he traveled. In his mouth, he now had a cigarette different from his clovers.

The pack that Karen had given to him said 'Yacht Club', and they happened to be smoother, but didn't last nearly as long. Across his back, next to his energy weapon was a short barreled grenade launcher, which she had happily given him ammo for as well. When he finally tracked the prints to their final destination, he found himself at a train depot called Northwest Seneca Station. Looking away from the sign, he opened the rusty door underneath the bunker-like protrusion and walked inside. As he entered, he immediately regretted not being more careful.

He had unknowingly stepped on a tripwire, which sent a small, but compact metal beam crashing into his chest like a battering ram. He flew out of the station, gasping for air and clutching at his ribs, which he was damn sure were fractured now. Getting back to his feet, he pulled out another Med-X and dosed himself so that the pain went away. Then he stood again, his breathing still labored, and began to walk down the tunnels that sunk into the earth. After the incident at the door, he decided to take his time, surmising that more traps were incoming.

He managed to avoid the slew of mines, bear traps, more battering rams, and a rigged shotgun as he made his way through the tunnels. Though he was taken by surprise after a surprisingly well kept baseball machine sent a ball directly into his stomach. More pissed off than ever, he wended his way around train car after train car that had been derailed due to the bombs, his eyes squinting slightly as he neared an area of the tunnel that was actually lit. As he approached, he heard the sound of a rocking chair squeaking loudly.

John peeked around the corner and noticed that the man had his head leaned back against the rest, his eyes closed as he hummed a tune that the gunman was sure had been on the radio a few days ago. Not missing his chance, the gunman stepped out into the lit entrance area and walked up to the man with his assault weapon forward. The guard, having heard a small noise opened his eyes, expecting to find a radroach skittering around. Instead, he inhaled sharply in surprise as the gun barrel of an assault rifle was shoved into his mouth.

Looking up, he saw the gunman staring down at him darkly. "I'm going to pull this out of your mouth very slowly. When I do, you're going to answer some questions. If you scream, or move wrong, or call out an alarm, you're going to be eating bullets. Nod if you understand me," said the young man. The older man nodded slowly. "Are you going to alert the rest of them if I pull this out?" he asked. The man shook his head. "Good," he said as he slowly pulled the gun barrel out of the man's mouth.

The man gently massaged his jaw before piping up. "Just to let you know, if you intend to hurt the Family, then you might as well kill me now. Because I will try to stop you," he said with a dark glare on his face.

John cocked an eyebrow at the response. "That's not the typical talk I hear from raiders..." he said, slightly amused.

The man sighed and rubbed his head. "That's because we're not raiders..."

John sat on the table, pulling out another Yacht Club. He offered the man one, who turned the offer down. "That's a far cry different than what I've been hearing from Arefu."

The man just shook his head, his dark hair waving with each turn. "I can't speak about Arefu. That's a topic only for Lord Vance."

"Is Vance in there?" John asked as he nodded towards the tunnel again.

"He is. He is our leader, and if anyone can speak with you about what happened with Arefu, it's him," said the man, noticing that despite the younger man's change to a polite tone, his weapon barrel was still aimed squarely at his chest.

John, Yacht Club cigarette still in his mouth, thought for a moment, then nodded towards the tunnel. "Alright. Let's go," he said, then reached back and pulled the grenade launcher off his back. "I trust you know that if I'm walking into an ambush, a lot of the Family are going to die?" asked the former vault dweller. The man said nothing, and began walking, John following behind him warily with both his assault rifle and grenade launcher at the ready.

When the pair walked into the cavernous metro station, John immediately began to regret his decision. Around them both were about twenty-five people, all of them armed. If he had to fight his way out, he wasn't leaving with all of his pieces. "Lord Vance! We have a visitor!" shouted the man. Everybody in the room froze and turned to look at the pair as the guard's voice echoed across the metro station. John's hope of getting out alive began sinking more and more.

"Now now, there is no need for violence in this sanctum," said a man as he approached the pair. He stopped short of the duo with his hands raised, showing that he wasn't reaching for his weapon. "Please lower your weapons. This is a place of peace," he said, his voice both smooth as silk, bit as sharp as a dagger.

John looked over at the man. "And what's to stop you from drawing when I let him go?" he asked, his Yacht Club falling from his mouth, now burned out. He spied the man, and felt a chill go down his spine as he did.

The man wore black armor with a duster over it, just as he did. However the duster he wore was tinted the color of blood. His hair was long, much longer than anyone he'd seen in the wastes yet, and was a straight curtain of hair that fell over his shoulders and onto his chest. His eyes were sharp and an eerie color of deep crimson. They held the look of somebody who would kill ruthlessly if the need arose. His skin was spotless and pale, and his friendly smile showed pointed teeth, more so than a normal human's should. To top off his dark, creepy aura, he had a black cloak swirling around him as he moved.

The dark figure just smiled and lowered his head respectfully. "If we were such barbarians, then what would the life of one man matter?" said the cloaked man, gesturing to the door guard. "If we were so ruthless, we would not care for his welfare, and would have killed you without remorse," he finished with the voice that felt like it could freeze the blood in his veins.

He shook off the chill he felt at the words, but he knew the man was correct. If he had taken a raider hostage, the other raiders probably would have gunned them both down. One less share of the loot. So, with reluctance, he lowered both of the weapons. A collective sigh resonated in the room as the gunman slung the grenade launcher back over his shoulder, and lowered the assault rifle. "Alright. If you are not raiders, then I would like to speak with Lord Vance."

The pale figure grinned and bowed his head slightly. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure?" John just looked at him, then mentally slapped himself. He should have known that the leader was standing right in front of him.

The former vault dweller just nodded at the lordly figure. "John Ronas. I came to talk to you about Arefu." As soon as the town name escaped his lips, the cloaked man's smile vanished.

"As you wish. Follow me please," he ordered as he turned and walking up one of the decommissioned escalators that led to the mezzanine above. The wanderer followed him, knowing that every eye in the room was now firmly on him. Once they were in a small office, Vance closed the door and sat behind a desk, staring at the wanderer expectantly. "So, your questions?"

"Ian West was taken from Arefu following the death of his parents. I'd like to know what, if anything, you had to do with that," said John as he sat in front of the desk and leaned back, trying to relax.

Vance immediately leaned forward. "You are an outsider, but I have heard great things about you," said the man as he stared at the gunman from behind those crimson eyes. When John gave him a questioning glance, he continued. "Cleaning the rabble out of Springvale, giving clean power to Megaton, and you've unseated a particularly nasty raider group from the Super Duper Mart. Given this knowledge, I will choose to trust you with our secret."

"Alright..." was all John had to say. He had more than his share of questions about how the man knew so much about his exploits, but those would have to be saved for later. He lit himself another yacht, expecting the information he was about to receive to have a lasting effect.

"To clear the air once and for all, we didn't attack Arefu. We have never attacked Arefu. The raider band that consistently harasses them is a small band living out of Hamilton's Hideaway that call themselves the Speedsters. I don't really know their game, but they don't really seem any different than the other trash who raid homes and kill innocents. Regardless, they are the ones who are shooting their brahmin and houses," he said as he rested his hands together in front of his mouth, hiding away those lethal looking teeth.

"Alright. And Ian West?" asked John after he puffed from his cigarette, letting out a toxic cloud above his head.

"That's another story entirely. See, me and my people here are here for a reason. We live underground so that we are away from the 'normal people' of society due in no small part to my people being shunned since their dawning. We have been hunted and exterminated for all of our existence by religious zealots and self-made purveyors of justice." With each word spoken, John's eyebrow grew higher in curiosity, wondering what exactly the man meant by 'his people.'

But then, the gunman's mind flew back to the small house. The throats were torn out, and there was no blood pooled on the floor. He felt the answer swoop forward to the front of his brain and smack him. "Renfield's?" he asked curiously, his cigarette once again forgotten.

But the dark leader's ears perked and his face soured. "Don't mock me John. We both know that Renfield's Syndrome is a mental illness, not a physical one," he said, anger lining his voice. "Do those afflicted with Renfield's live a life unhindered by illness after ingesting large quantities of blood?"

"Of course not. More than a few gulps is highly toxic to humans. It would likely leave them a shivering, malnourished mess," he said before sitting straight in his chair and staring at the leader. "Alright, so it is physical?" he asked, puffing heavily on the yacht.

The man stood up, then pulled off the armor that was strapped to his chest. Setting it on the desk, he reached down and lifted his entire shirt off. "Tell me great wanderer, do I look malnourished to you?" he asked in an amused tone. John examined him in awe. The pale man was muscular beyond what he had accomplished twice over. His arms were corded and bulging, and his chest might as well have been carved from stone, from his rock solid pecs down to the eight pack abs that ended at his belted pants. "For ten years now, I have fed off nothing but the sangreal, human blood. And it has nourished my body, as was the creator's intent when he created me."

John just stared in awe at the man before him. If someone else had told him that he would be meeting a living...so to speak...vampire in his lifetime, he'd have brushed them off as insane. Now, he just sat, staring up at the man. "Wait, so does that mean…?" started the gunman, but Vance immediately shook his head.

"I am not undead. In fact, I'm very killable. I cannot turn into mist, nor a wolf, and I age just like everyone else. Our kind do benefit from enhanced senses and reflexes at night however. And sunlight feels like flames on our skin," said the leader as he stared for a moment at his own milky-white hand.

John sat for a moment, just processing the information he had been slammed with. Then his mind snapped back to the house in Arefu. "If all of this is true, does that mean the West's have you to thank for their facial reconstruction?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Despite the words, his tone had no bite behind it.

Vance sat down again, not bothering to recloth himself. "That's where the other half of the story comes into play. As a group, all of the people here have the same craving that I do. We all drink blood to sustain ourselves, and as such, our home is a sanctuary to any who do. Keep in mind, I despise cannibalism, and have ended more than one group of such despicable creatures myself."

John gave him an odd look. "How is cannibalism any different than what you do?"

Vance adopted a dark grimace on his face. "I did not choose this," he said, motioning to himself. "It was chosen for me. Brahmin, molerat, mirelurk, even radroach meat gives all the same nutrients as human flesh does, but these people choose to kill and eat their human prey despite this. What I have is something I must live with. I cannot eat regular proteins and glucose, I require blood in order to survive, so I do so. I do not attack innocents and kill them for their blood. The majority of our stores come from raiders who stray too close to the train station. The rest is all animal blood," he said, a note of finality in his voice.

John thought for a moment, then nodded. "I see. Your body rejects regular food, but accepts blood as a replacement, gaining nutrients from it instead?" he asked, getting a nod from the man. "Do you suppose that's a mutation of some kind?"

Vance shrugged. "If it is, it's a very specific one. I don't claim to know myself, but I doubt a mutation that allowed me to drink blood would have also made my canines grow," he said, lifting his lip and a crooked smile and showing his left canine, which was at least a half an inch longer than human standards, and very pointed. "Regardless, we are what we are now. And that's where we come to Ian West," he said, sitting down. "I, even among my kind, am unique, in that I have a talent for sensing our own kind. When we were scouting near Arefu, I had such a feeling."

John's eyes widened. "Ian?" he asked, and the pale man nodded.

"I managed to talk to him a few times when he came down from the city. That was before the Speedsters showed up and threw dirt on our reputation. But he had mentioned when he was a boy, he had attacked a pet dog he and his sister adopted and killed it. His sister covered for the boy and buried the dog, and they never spoke of it again. The night that the West's died, I had the feeling stronger than ever. I knew I had to act, and act quickly if I was to save their lives. Unfortunately, the man...King...wouldn't let me speak to Ian. He wouldn't even let me up the bridge," said Vance as he let out a heavy sigh.

The wanderer rubbed his head in frustration. "In trying to protect Ian, he killed the boy's parents."

Vance nodded solemnly. "Indeed. Using my increased agility, I managed to sneak up to the house using the column of the highway itself. But by the time I had gotten to the house, it was much too late. They were dead, and he was covered in their blood." His hair swayed mystically as he sighed and shook his head. "I took him then and there so that he would be safe from retribution for his acts."

Finally having the final piece of the puzzle, John nodded. "So he is here, and he's alright?" he asked, more of a rhetorical question. "May I see him?"

Vance sat up straight in his chair. "While I do applaud your open-mindedness and willingness to put violence aside, I'm afraid Ian is at a very critical point in his life right now. He has to make a decision, one that will affect him for the rest of his life. The last thing he needs at the moment is a distraction."

Immediately, John straightened up as well, narrowing his eyes at the leader. "And I'm here at the request of the only living family he has left. If a life altering decision is to be made, he should be given every perspective so as to make the best decision possible," said the gunman. Vance looked down at the desk for a few moments, before looking back up at John with his piercing crimson eyes.

"You are correct. It would be devious for me to not include his sister as a variable," he said, then stood and walked to the door, leaving his shirt and armor where they lay. "Follow me, I'll take you to him."

John stood and followed the man to a closed off room at the back of the metro station. The door had been sealed, and was only accessible once Vance had entered a keycode into the pad next to the door. It popped open in front of him, and Vance grabbed the door and swung it wide for the visitor.

"Please, visit me again before you leave," requested the man as he turned and left the gunman alone. John nodded in acknowledgement and entered the room. He walked through one more door before finding a young boy, maybe fifteen years old sitting on the bed, just staring at his hands. When John entered, the boy immediately looked up, then scrambled to the rear of the bed, placing his back against the wall.

"Who are you?" he asked, a look of terror on his face. The boy wore peasants clothes at the moment, nothing but ratty shorts, sandals, and what might pass as a potato sack for a shirt. But the most worn down looking feature on him were his eyes. He looked at John with pure fear, his crimson eyes telling the story itself. Everything Vance had said was true, and now the boy thought that his punishment had come in the form of the gunman.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you," he said reassuringly as he stepped up to the bed. The boy eased slightly, but still looked at him suspiciously.

"Then why are you here?" he asked, eying the man's guns.

Trying to smile, and ease the boy's tensions, John lifted his hands. "I was sent by Lucy to check on you," said John as he stared down at the adolescent. The boy visible relaxed, then warped his face in anger.

"Lucy should hate me. Everyone should hate me," he said angrily, hitting the wall with one hand. "I killed them. I'm a monster," he growled, burying his head in his knees as tears started to flow again.

"Shut up," snapped the gunman. The boy almost immediately shot his head up at the wanderer, surprise covering his face.

"What?" asked the boy, his voice showing the shock.

"Most of my life I've had it easy. I lived in a vault until a few weeks ago. The first thing I encountered when I left was a group of people who wanted to cut pieces of me off so that I'd give them access to my vault, where they would no doubt do the same to my friends," he said as he took a step closer. "I've been inside a supermarket where more than twenty people banded together to rip out my insides, just so they could hang me on a hook. I've talked with a man who, for a few caps, wanted me to detonate a nuclear device inside a city of innocent people who want nothing more than to live a simple life. So don't start the whole 'I'm a monster' crap with me. There's a lot of sick people in the wasteland who wouldn't think twice about skinning you or your sister for any other reason than entertainment. You may have fucked up kid, but it wasn't your choice. It wasn't something you decided to do," said the gunman as he crouched down onto his haunches.

"But...I..." was all Ian could get out before John interrupted him.

"You're different. You're not the same as regular people. But what makes someone a monster is their choices, not shit that they can't control," he said, giving the young man a piercing stare with his green eyes.

Ian stayed silent for a long moment, then nodded. "I...don't really know what to say."

After lighting another yacht, the wanderer blew out a ring of smoke. "I can't tell you not to feel guilty for your parents. But you can't change what happened. All you can do is vow to never let it happen again," he said as he inhaled more smoke. "And if Vance taught you everything he taught me today, then you know how to prevent that in the future, don't you?"

Ian nodded, a dutiful look now on his face. "I do. He said to prevent the hunger from getting out of control, you have to feed it. So, I have to drink blood. As long as I sustain that, I should be fine."

John just smiled. "And now, you've made the first step toward a new life. Here..." he said, reaching into his duster. He pulled out a small envelope and passed it to the blonde boy. "It's from your sister," he finished, then stood up and walked out of the room. After the visit to Lucy's brother, and getting a hungry eye from a woman wearing rather skimpy skirt and blouse, he made his way back to Vance's office. The man greeted him with a nod.

"Welcome back. How did your conversation go?" asked the no redressed figure.

John just shrugged. "We'll know when he makes a decision," he said with a shrug. "Now, I wanted to ask, do you have any doctors here?" Vance cocked an eyebrow at him. "Just humor me."

"We do have a former physician that now handles our stores of blood. Why do you ask?" the pale man asked curiously.

"There may be a way you can continue to not have to hunt. How often do you need to feed?" he asked curiously, rubbing his temple as his head began to throb again.

"Once every couple of days is fine. We almost never feed daily, unless injury calls for it," he finished, eyeing the gunman with a curious, crimson stare. "What's ticking in that brain of yours Mister Ronas?"

"The people of Arefu are attacked constantly, and while it is a fortified position, they really only have two defenders of the town should anyone attack. For it to be a viable settlement, it needs defenders," he said with a small smirk.

Vance's face lit up as he caught on to the plan. "I see...and in return they give us blood?" he asked, his perfect coal-black eyebrow arching in curiosity. "Will they accept our help?"

John nodded. "Once I tell them who's been really terrorizing them, probably. I'm pretty convincing with one of the town members, and the other, as long as Ian is safe, should be fine with it," he said as he doused his cigarette on the bottom of his boot. "Besides, your assistance is going to help Arefu thrive, I believe."

"Oh?" asked Vance, the ideas of the treaty working through his head at high speeds.

John nodded with a confident smile. "Tell me, in a wasteland full of raiders, thugs, and people who are just outright rude, who wouldn't want to go to a town protected by vampires?" he asked, smiling wolfishly. Vance began to chuckle at the gunman's words. "The more people seeking safety, the more blood gets donated, the less you have to hunt."

"I see your point," said Vance as he began thinking. Finally he looked up and nodded. "If mister King will accept us, then we will happily assist them in the protection of their town." Suddenly, both of them were alerted by someone opening the door to the office. "Ian?" asked Vance as he stood up. "I take it this means you have made your decision?" asked the Family leader.

The blond boy nodded. "I have," he said, then looked up at Vance. "I've decided that I'd like to continue my life in Arefu." Vance let out a disappointed sigh, but nodded.

"As you wish. You know where we are if you ever change your mind," said the pale figure.

Ian nodded solemnly. "On top of that, I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. Everything you've taught me, how to control my hunger, and much more. Thank you. I am eternally grateful," he said, bowing his head respectfully.

Vance smiled, showing one of his large pointed canines. "If our mutual friend's master plan works, then we are going to to be seeing a lot more of each other than we initially thought," said the man as he pocketed his hands.

Ian nodded, then turned to John. "And thank you for giving me perspective. I can move on and truly live now. I'm eternally grateful to you both.

OoOoO

Ian now stood on the overpass to Arefu, overlooking the northeast landscape as the sun sank behind the horizon. All around him stood the other citizens of the small settlement, each of them looking nervous and slightly agitated, aside from Miss Schenzy, who was leaning onto the guard rail with a bored expression.

"Are you sure about this Ian?" asked Evan King as he too watched the landscape.

The young boy nodded with a smile. "Just keep watching," he said as the group of people who had been running towards their overpass got closer. When the leader of the group saw the citizens peeking over the rail, he pulled what looked like a canister of jet from his belt, inhaled the contents, then yelled a battle cry and tossed the expended medicine aside. His group mimicked him, all of them inhaling their own samples of the drug before increasing their charge speed and firing into the air with their weapons.

Evan and Kenneth Ewers both backed away from the rail, their fear getting the better of them. Brailee Ewers on the other hand leaned further over. "Oh! Look at them! They must be celebrating something! I bet they have fireworks too!" she said happily. Everyone looked at her oddly, then turned back to the scene.

Soon, the sun sank below the horizon, and darkness shrouded the land. As the raiders drew closer, their gunfire masked the noise of a camouflaged blanket flying off. John reached out and grabbed one of the dashing bandits and gripped him in a chokehold as the rest of the men and women of the band continued on, not realizing their comrade had been halted. "What the f-" shouted the man, but a squeeze on his neck and the cold touch of a pistol barrel to his temple shut him up.

After disarming the man of his own pistol, John aimed both of the weapons at the back of the man's head and let him stand of his own power. "Consider yourself fortunate. You get to watch," said the gunman with a smile. Though the sun had set, there was still enough light cascading the sky to illuminate the scene before them. Dark figures stepped out from behind the pillars of the overpass, each one of them shadowed with the tapetum lucidum lighting their eyes like demons. The raiders stopped in their tracks, their speed running halted by the unnerving sight.

Vance stood ahead of the others, his armor and weapons making him practically blend in with the shadows around him. His smile was wide now, exposing his pointed teeth as he saw the bandits hesitate. "Go my family, and feed," he said ordered with a chilling shout. The shadowy silhouettes around him dashed forward with incredible speed and clashed with the bandit group.

Evan watched from above with his eyes wide. "That is the true Family mister King," said Ian next to him, a proud smile on his face as they watched the raiders fall one by one to the mysterious shadows. Calling it a bloodbath would have been incorrect, because there was very little blood spilled. But the sheer power of the group was a sight to behold.

Evan King looked over at the boy. "And...they agreed to protect us if we donate blood?" he asked, his voice showing both fear and relief. Ian nodded, looking down at the group. Karen gazed down at the slaughter, her boredom apparently sated.

"My my...they are a very lively group aren't they?" she asked curiously.

Meanwhile, the one raider that John held watched the horror of his former comrades getting literally torn apart by the small number of shadowy figures. John leaned down and whispered to the man again. "Now, you're going to tell everyone about this. You're going to share the story of how your entire group was eaten alive by the creatures of the night," ordered the gunman before he lifted one foot and kicked the man into the dirt. After wetting himself thoroughly, the man got back to his feet and ran faster than he ever had with the Speedsters.

OoOoO

It was a few days later when the gunman finally returned to Megaton. He entered the gate and was immediately greeted by Sheriff Simms, toting his new sniper rifle proudly. The dark-skinned man tipped his hat in greeting as the young man walked up to him. But the sheriff's smile didn't last when he saw the look on the vault dweller's face.

"Didn't go as well as you hoped?" asked Lucas as he approached the younger man. John just sighed and shook his head.

"Her parents are dead. Her little brother Ian is alright. He's safe...but...I don't know," he said, reaching up and lifting the goggles from his eyes long enough to rub them in frustration. "I just don't know how to tell her," he said, his voice exasperated.

Sheriff Simms put a hand on John's shoulder and squeezed. "Don't worry. She's strong," he said, his deep tone conveying his sympathy.

John just shook his head. "I hope so Lucas. I really do." It wasn't long before he'd find out either. Lucy had been shopping earlier in the day, and as he returned from the wastes, she spotted him talking to the sheriff. She smiled and waved at him excitedly, holding the small bag of goods she had in one arm. John sighed and bit the bullet, walking over to the blonde girl.

Lucas watched with a heavy heart as the smile slowly disappeared from the girl's face as the two talked. He couldn't hear what was being said, but he could quickly see the mood disintegrating. He just shook his head as he saw Lucy fall to her knees with tears pouring down her face, followed by John who began to comfort her by wrapping his arms around her. She immediately returned the gesture and began crying directly into his armored chest. "God damn this hell..." the sheriff said, then walked on.


	13. Toxicity

OoO( 13 )OoO

The next few days were probably the most taxing since he had left the vault. Ever since he had returned with news of her parents' demise, Lucy had been a rollercoaster of emotion and depression. One morning he'd wake up to find her sitting at the table downstairs, working and happily humming. The next, he'd come home to find her curled into the fetal position with tears running like twin rivers. It wasn't taxing because he couldn't bear her emotions. It was more sympathy towards her, and frustration at himself for not being able to help her.

Despite his feelings on the matter, she did seem to calm down every time he swooped in and cradled her. As soon as he dropped his things and knelt down, she would wrap herself around him entirely and cling for dear life. Her crying slowed to a sniffle, and her breathing slowed immensely, which in turn calmed him as well. It seemed as if he was some kind of constant antidote for the poison of her sorrows. And if that's all he could do, then he was more than happy to do it for her. As a result, instead of going home, she now practically lived in his room. Any time he came home to rest, he found her already waiting for him, sitting at the desk in his room or on the bed looking as if the weight on her was crushing.

So he laid down, and she laid with him, cuddling up against him and letting out a sigh of tranquility. He spent the first hour after she fell deep into sleep just staring at the ceiling, using his willpower to beat down his body's urges to react to a cute girl his age being so close while they were in bed. After a few days however, he finally got used to her presence, and began to lapse into sleep much sooner.

One such morning, John woke up to her sleeping with her head on his chest, one of her delicate arms laying across his bare stomach. He lifted his head to look down at the adorable blond girl, then let his head fall back against the pillow and rubbed his eyes gently. He was usually a bit of an active sleeper, always turning and moving in his sleep. With her now anchoring him at night, his body felt a bit sore. But again, it was worth it if she felt better.

Deciding that it was time to get up, he gently moved himself out of her grasp, cradling her head and sliding her arm onto the bed as he stealthily slid onto the floor. But, when he turned to leave the room, he was stopped by her voice. "I never did say thank you," she said, her voice shaky and heavy with sleep.

He just sighed and turned around, sitting on the bed next to her. She quickly laid her head in his lap, allowing him to stroke his fingers through her blonde hair. "You'll never have to," he said as he smiled down at her lightly.

"I'm sorry I'm such a burden right now. When I sent you out there, I thought maybe they had gotten sick. I never dreamed that they had died..." she said as fresh tears began welling up in her eyes. He quickly reached back and began to rub her neck to try and soothe her.

Immediately all thoughts of sadness escaped Lucy's head. "Oh god...what is that?" she asked, her eyes closed as his fingers released years of tension from her neck.

John looked at her oddly, his head tilted to make eye contact with her. "A neck rub. You've never had one before?" he asked incredulously. She shook her head, causing him to chuckle lightly.

She pouted and smacked his leg. "I haven't let a guy touch me since I was old enough to defend myself," she said, letting out a soft moan as his finger pushed into the flesh of her tense neck again.

He smiled, then cracked his knuckles. Reaching down, he patted his lap. "Sit here, and prepare yourself."

She looked at him oddly as she sat up, curious about what he intended. "W-What are you going to do?" she asked, unconsciously crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

He smirked lightly and shook his head. "Nothing inappropriate. I promise that nothing but my hands will touch you, and they will go nowhere that you don't want them to. Deal?"

She looked like she was giving it some thought, then nodded. Crawling over to him, she sat down in his lap and straightened her body. His hand reached up, guiding her ponytail over her shoulder to keep it out of the way, then sliding up the back of her shirt. She squeaked, but didn't move, and when his hands finally reached her shoulders, she practically melted on the spot.

OoOoO

Gob basked in the glory of his new domicile. The desk was missing a drawer, but it was still more than he had ever had in Moriarty's place. On his desk he had six boxes of the snack cakes stacked into a pyramid, a few Vault-Tec bobbleheads that he had managed to get from random caravans over the years, and a lamp. He'd never had a lamp before. His room back in the saloon was dark and dingy. Now, he had his own room with an actual bed instead of a bit of cardboard thrown onto the floor in the corner.

He also had his own desk, with drawers! He could keep stuff in them. Stuff that nobody in the settlement was stupid enough to try and steal. Stuff like...well...he had his extra shirts in there for the moment. But eventually, he would find stuff to put in them.

This morning, he was just lying on his new mattress, eating a snack cake, when he was startled by a loud cry from the next room. He got to his feet and walked into the hallway. Hearing the noise now come from John's door, he walked over and knocked. "You alright in there?"

"Yes Gob, go away!" shouted Lucy from inside the room, followed by another loud moan.

"Oh...my bad," he said, then went on about his business.

When finally the noises stopped, the door to the room opened and Lucy walked out, a smile that would have lit the room had it not already had adequate lighting plastered across her face. "Sorry about earlier," she said apologetically to the ghoul.

Gob just waved her off. "No big deal. When you live next to Nova as long as I have, you tend to get used to the noises," he remarked in a friendly tone, not realizing that his words made Lucy blush brightly.

"Oh...we weren't...I mean..." she said, covering her face with her hands. "He just gave me my first back rub."

Gob chuckled, something Lucy had never heard before from a ghoul. "That must have been nice. I remember what they used to feel like," he said with a sigh.

Lucy looked at him curiously. "You haven't had one in a while?" she asked as she stepped down the stairs and into the main room of the house.

The ghoulish man just shook his head. "Who'd wanna touch a ghoul to give them a back rub? Assuming that the person doesn't get a random piece of skin that peels off, there's also the fact that very few smoothskins would want to touch a ghoul. I don't know if they think our condition is somehow contagious or what...but..."

Lucy walked up behind the couch and placed her hands on the ghoul's shoulders, then began to rub gently. Immediately, Gob went rigid at the feeling of being touched, but slowly began to relax, his eyes closing. "As long as it's through a shirt, none of the skin should come off. So I don't mind rubbing your back for you," she said, smiling at the soothing effect she was having on him.

A few minutes had passed before John came out of his room and looked down from the top of the stairs to see Lucy giving the ghoul a shoulder rub. He just chuckled as he descended. "My god...the epidemic is spreading," he said jokingly. Lucy threw him a dirty look, and Gob just continued laying his head back on the couch with a blissful gaze on his face. "Sorry to steal your masseuse Gob, but I have a few things I need to teach Lucy before I leave again," he said as he walked over and sat in front of the workbench.

The girl stopped her first attempt at a shoulder rub and bowed her head. "Sorry Gob."

The ghoul just shook his head. "You're an angel Lucy," he just said and sighed happily.

Once she sat next to him, John pulled up his old hunting rifle, the one that had been bent sideways during his encounter with the armored soldier. "Ever since I left the vault, guns have pretty much been my trade. So I've taken to learning all I can about how they work, and how to fix what's broken. As you know, salvaging what's broken is not only helpful for resources, but it's also easy on the caps." he said, getting a nod from her as her blue eyes scanned the oddly bent barrel. "I'm going to teach you what I've learned. And who knows, maybe someday we can open a shop together," he said, now setting his 10mm pistol onto the flat surface.

Her eyes widened. "R-Really? You'd want to?" she asked, a bit overwhelmed. He smiled and nodded.

"It's not hard. Once you learn the basics of it, the rest is pretty much just memorizing the weapons. The same principles go into cleaning all weapons, the same as repairs," he said as he started disassembling the pistol, she smiled at him admiringly, letting her eyes drift down his broad chest. He currently left his jumpsuit upstairs, and instead, opted for a pair of long, pocketed pants and a t-shirt. His choice gave her a chance to actually admire his sturdy build.

Since she had first approached him, his attitude, his jovial nature, his smile, everything had startled her. Rarely had she met someone as genuinely caring as him. Sheriff Simms and a few of the townsfolk were nice people, but they weren't very outgoing people. Most had an air of cynicism that kept them distant from others. Then out of nowhere, a friendly, charming, and admittedly handsome young man from the vault busts into town, into her life, and practically into her heart. Ever since they had met, she had always thought he was cute. But after he had jumped through hoops to find out about her parents, and went through the backbreaking process of dealing with the aftermath with open arms, she knew she felt something slightly more for him. She didn't want to get hopeful too soon, but as her eyes moved from his chest down to his bare arms, she would definitely be okay with...

Suddenly, her thought process grinded to a halt as they reached the insides of his arms. Though her vision was not as good in the low light of the house as it was in the bright sun, she still managed to see a bunch of small track marks along the inside of his arm. Her gaze immediately shot up to his own forest green eyes, noticing a slight twinge of tiredness, then back down at his arm, seeing the bruises lead in a small dotted line up and down a small area of his vein.

"Alright..." he said, finally having disassembled the weapon. She jumped in surprise, then looked down at the workbench, shame washing over her face as if she had just been spying on him. He glanced at her oddly, then went on about the tutorial. It had taken the greater part of the day to teach her about the pistol, all of its parts, cleaning methods, and part replacement. By the end, she felt comfortable enough with a wide range of pistols, from 10mm, to magnums, to the Chinese made Shanxi Type 17 that John had picked up from a merchant for a hefty price.

After the lesson, she could disassemble any of them at a comfortably slow pace, and clean them. She looked over the newly constructed pistol that she herself had put together. A few of the inside bits had needed to be replaced before it would fire again, but once she had cleaned it all and put the right parts in place, John took the gun from her and loaded it with a rubber round. "Wadsworth, Liberty!" he shouted. Both robots turned towards him. "Deactivate defense protocol for fifteen seconds," he commanded.

 _"As you wish sah,"_  said Wadsworth as he disabled his reactionary defenses.

 _"_ **[ò_ó]**   _Acknowledged,"_  said Liberty, who now displayed a fifteen second timer.

He now handed her the gun. "Go ahead. Give it a shot," he said with a smile. She looked at him bewildered, her expression questioning. "Better hurry, times running out," he said, pointing to the two robots. She looked over, then panicked and fired the weapon straight up. The dummy round burst from the barrel and bounced off the metal roof, ricocheting around the room several times before Liberty locked sights on it and blasted it to dust with his laser.

When she put her arms down, she realized they were shaking, and her breathing was a lot heavier than it had been. "What's wrong with me?" she asked, examining herself.

"Nothing. That's the first time you've fired a gun isn't it?" She just looked at him and nodded. "Your system was shocked by the sudden impact, not to mention the noise, and your brain telling you that you're firing a gun. All of it added together causes your body to release adrenaline, which makes you run faster and fight harder. Eventually, you get used to the feeling, and will stop reacting to every shot. But at first, your body shakes, you're skittish, even paranoid, and your breathing picks up making you take in more oxygen," he said as he patted her back gently. "I was the same way when I had to...leave the vault," he said rather quietly as he cleaned up the spare parts on the workbench.

"Wow...it's...exhilarating!" she said, now feeling the adrenaline pumping through her.

"Nobody should be allowed to sell or repair weapons without having fired one. So now you have. Tomorrow, we can start on rifles before I head out for GNR," he said, stretching his form. As he did, she once again let her eyes drift to admire his muscular body. After a long moment of bathing him in her adoring gaze, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, gripping him in a tight embrace. Despite his surprise, he smiled and put an arm around her, returning the gesture happily.

OoOoO

"So wait...you want me to what?" asked John as he stared at Moira questioningly.

The shopkeeper just smiled. "I need ya to get some radiation poisoning. We need to study the effects of radiation on the average human!"

"I'm already irradiated! We both are! Why do I need to poison myself for the study?" he asked incredulously as he held onto the counter to keep his balance. The pain in his head was clouding his mental faculties, making it harder to pull off everyday motor functions.

She just shrugged. "It's only a little bit of poisoning," she said, pouting slightly. John just sighed and rubbed his forehead, wiping the sweat from it. His head had started hurting again and he was currently out of Med-X to help take the edge off.

"I'll...see what I can do. But without literally bathing in the Potomac for a full day I'm not exactly sure what you expect me to do. I can't exactly take a mini-nuke to the face and just absorb it into myself. Plus, if I were to go out and get radiation poisoning for you, who's to say that I could make it back?" he asked through labored breathing.

Despite her normally cheerful nature, the shopkeeper obviously knew something was wrong. "You're a tough guy, you can make it just fine," she said, her smile never wavering and showing her undeniable confidence in the wastelander. Then she leaned over the counter and eyed him curiously. "I'd recommend seeing the doc first though. You look like yer a bit under the weather."

"I'll be fine." John growled as he sighed to himself. "You said that you can at least get rid of it for me right?"

The shopkeeper nodded happily. "I can do it myself! Once I get enough samples off you of course. I have a bit of history in working with DNA repair," she said cheerfully.

John eyed her, his irritation now far surpassed by the horror of this woman tinkering around in someone's genetics. The gunman just agreed, then walked out of the shop with an exasperated sigh. Despite his words in the store, he definitely felt the need to get himself checked out at the clinic. Grabbing the hand rail, he stepped slowly along the catwalk, not wanting to disturb his already pounding skull by moving too quickly.

But, as he continued his long journey, he ended up bumping into Nova, who had just come from Jenny's diner. "Oh...hey," he said as he smiled at her.

"Hey stud. Things good?" she asked curiously, her usual cat-like smile playing across her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, rubbing his head again, even more sweat wiping off.

Nova gave him an examining look. "You don't look alright...it's almost sunset and you're sweating like crazy," she said as she stepped up and felt his forehead.

"I'm fine!" he snapped angrily. She immediately back off, a look of stunned surprise on her face. John sighed and reached up, wiping the sweat away with the sleeve of his duster. "Sorry about that. I've just got this really bad pain in my head. It's been bugging me for a bit, and I think I need to see the doctor..."

She stepped closer to him again, her brown eyes staring at him inquisitively. "Wait..." she ordered as she reached up and brushed the back of her hand across his cheek. She felt the cold sweat on his skin, then raised her hand and opened his eye wide. "You're dilating! John, what the hell? Are you pumping?"

His breathing picked up even more as he looked down at her confused. "What the hell does pumping mean?" he asked as the pain reached peak levels. Slowly, he felt the world around him start to spin, becoming overwhelming to his senses. "I think I need to sit down..." he said, then suddenly fell over, the lights of the small settlement spiralling all around him as his consciousness faded out quickly.

OoOoO

He felt as if death itself had gotten into a truck and hit him at full speed. He awoke to find himself laying on the ground. Where he was, he couldn't say, but all he could see was darkness and mist. It was so thick and suffocating that he couldn't even hope to see through it. Despite the oppressive nature of his surroundings, he still tried to move. However, his limbs refused to respond as well, setting his mind on full alert. He wasn't being held down by anything that he could see, he just couldn't move. Any attempt to raise one of his limbs was met with inaction, and a feeling of fear being instilled within him.

Looking around at his surroundings, he began to notice bright lights flashing beyond the fog, as if a fire were blazing just out of his reach. Opening his mouth, he tried to cry out, but his pleas for help were again returned with silence. "Am...am I dead?" he asked, the chill of the thought being the only thing he felt circulating through his body at the moment. But, as soon as the question echoed across the unknown location, a shadow formed in the fog, slowly making its way towards him. "Hey, whoever you are! Help me, please! I can't move!" he shouted through the thick mire.

He asked himself whether crying out for help without knowing where he currently was located was a good idea. But if he was alive and dying out in the wastes, then even a raider or mutated creature ending his life mercifully quickly was a better option than just wasting away and waiting for death to take him. But, as if unfazed, the shadow continued to grow at its own pace, as if not in a hurry to save him at all. He growled and tried to move again, only to be met with his deadened limbs not responding once more.

After agonizing minutes, whatever it was finally made its way through the brumous atmosphere and showed itself. And much to his surprise, it was a molerat. But unlike the creepy pink-skinned creatures that are considered the pests of the wastes, this one's skin was an odd shade of blue. He stared at it for a long moment as it sat down and stared back with those beady, soulless eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, finding the creature vaguely familiar. But it did nothing but sit and watch him, as if waiting for something. "Are you going to do something? Or just sit there and stare at me like an asshole?" he demanded, jerking his head towards the beast threateningly.

It felt like an eternity laying and waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. The mutated creature just sat and stared at him for what felt like hours as he struggled to move any part of his body. But it was when he finally gave up that he started to notice that the fog was retreating. Very slowly, the murky air began spreading out around him, giving way to more and more barren, dusty ground. He looked all around him, his eyes looking for anything that could tell him what was happening. But much like most of his time spent here, he was alone in the dark. The only noticeable change was that the dancing lights behind the fog were becoming brighter with every inch that it receded. He felt a sickening feeling in his gut as the atmosphere picked up the pace and started to uncloud itself faster. Whatever was outside the fog, he knew it wasn't good.

It took only minutes more to realize the truth to his fears. As soon as the fog finally lifted, he saw that the dancing lights were actually a raging wildfire. And as soon as the murky air had cleared, the flames raced forward, devouring the air between them like a starving beast. He tried with all his might to move, but couldn't, and still the blue molerat sat staring at him. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing himself to be engulfed in a painful, fiery death. But noticed after a few moments in pitch black that he wasn't on fire. Opening his eyes again, he noticed that the flames had stopped in a circular ring around him and the beast, as if it had a mind of its own.

Now able to get a closer look, his eyes widened in horror when he saw that the flame wasn't just a wildfire that had been set loose. It was a group of tiny creatures that were immolated in the flames themselves. Eight legs, huge abdomens, fidgeting fangs. He was looking at an army of millions of spiders, all of them with their numerous horrifying eyes shining as the flames danced around their bodies. He tried struggling, but even with the fear of death in him, his body refused to respond. All he could do was scream as the tiny, clattering legs of the swarm encircled his body. He screamed for his life, but that only made it worse as they swarmed into his mouth and down his throat.

OoOoO

Lucy, Gob, Nova, Lucas, and Doc Church all sat in John's room as they watched in both horror and fascination. John, at the behest of Doc Church, had been secured to his bed using several leather belts, making sure that he couldn't hurt himself or anyone else.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Lucy, who took a step back with a horrified expression as the young man struggled against his bonds, letting out a scream as if he had just been eviscerated.

Lucas shook his head. "He was too green, too young. He made some mistakes which caused injuries, and he kept using med-x to fight off the pain. He wasn't aware of what happened after using too many too quickly."

Nova continued where he left off. "Despite his build, he was pretty soft coming out of the vault. He didn't grow up out here after all," said the woman as she continued to watch the horrific display.

Lucy looked between them both, still in the dark. "The med-x is killing him?"

Doc Church shook his head and responded. "He used too much med-x in too short a time, and it's a highly addictive painkiller. His body began to depend on the med-x. When your body grows dependent on something as addictive as painkillers, and you suddenly stop taking them, you start feeling sick, hallucinating, and going into near seizures."

"GET THEM OFF!" shouted John as he heaved against the restraints again. "PLEASE! SOMEONE HELP!" he cried, then fell back to the bed and continued the horrifying screams as his worst nightmares appeared before his very eyes and began to consume him.

"What's he hallucinating about?" Lucy asked as she knelt next to the bed, though not close enough to get hit by anything he threw out. She knew her father had had addiction problems back in Arefu, but he was a jet fiend. His biggest troubles were that he couldn't sleep, and the occasional money problem, which was why Lucy was in Megaton in the first place.

"Most junkies on their first exit from the lifestyle end up with spiders. Millions and millions of spiders, crawling all over you," said the doctor as he continued watching.

"Please! Can't we help him?" she asked desperately as she looked from one person to another. But they all just shrugged.

"The best thing we can do for him is let him sweat this out of his system. Once it passes, he'll be better," finished the doctor.

Lucy just glared at them all, then stood and turned towards the bed. Lucas reached out to grab her, but she shrugged him off. "Lucy, don't! He could kill you!" said the man worriedly as he stepped forward.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, giving him a deadly glare. Simms immediately backed off as she turned back to John, who had tear streaks down the sides of his face, burn marks on his arms where he strained against the bindings, and was now covered in sweat. She got onto the bed with him and straddled him gently, resting her hands on his chest, before leaning forward and laying her head over his rapidly beating heart.

She began to hum a tune as she laid there, while John still bucked and jerked at the restraints. But everyone in the room did start to notice the young gunman's breathing slow. After a few minutes of the soothing therapy, the young man just lay there, cringing with his eyes closed. When he stopped flailing, Lucy spread herself out over his form, her humming now evolving into a soft song.

"Shine...bright morning light,  
Now in the air the spring is calling.  
Sweet, blowing wind.  
Singing down the hills and valleys."

She continued to sing to him, his expression changing from a tortured soul to a slightly agitated one. The others in the room just looked on in awe. "Well, I'll be goddamned," said Doc Church as he stood up with the assistance of his cane.

"It actually worked..." said Nova unbelievably as she leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees.

Doc Church leaned down and whispered to Lucy. "Make sure when he wakes up, he gets some water. He's sweated a lot out of his system and he'll need to stay hydrated in order to beat this."

She just nodded, and continued her low singing.

"Keep, your eyes on me,  
now we're on the edge of hell.  
Dear my love, sweet morning light.  
Wait for me, you've gone much farther. Too far."

She continued to sing him back from his hell as the sun sank behind the horizon and the darkness swallowed the world once more.


	14. The Archangel

OoO( 14 )OoO

When the nightmares finally ended, John opened his eyes slowly. The dim light of the lamp in his room stinging his eyes, despite its low wattage. He felt tired, drained, his body aching as if he was an empty husk of a human that was lost in limbo. As he awoke, the first thing he noticed was that his throat was extremely dry. Coughing gently, he looked around for where he usually kept a spare bottle of water. There were several now sitting on the small table next to him.

He tried to reach up with one of his sore arms and grab one, but couldn't move it. He started to panic, thinking that he was living the nightmare again, however as he looked down at the limb in question, he noticed that it was tied to to bed with a leather strap. After he calmed himself, he also spotted the young blonde girl laying on top of him, snoring gently. Not wanting to wake her yet, he tugged gently on his legs, and found them bound and stinging where the belts contacted his skin.

"What the fuck?" he asked, letting his head fall against the mattress again.

Lucy must have heard the comment, because she immediately woke up with a yawn and sat up, staring at him through sleepy eyes. Lifting herself off of his form, as if reading his mind, she reached out and grabbed one of the bottles of water and cracked it open. He quickly leaned up as much as he could, allowing her to pour some of the sweet, somewhat cool, life-giving liquid into his mouth. He gulped it down quickly, almost choking, before the woman rubbed the back of his head gently, calming him down.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, his voice still showing his exhaustion.

She reached down, unbuckling both of his arms from the bed, then began rubbing the feeling back into them. "They said it was med-x. You used too much, too fast, so your body got too used to it. And when you stopped taking it after getting back, your body started to go through withdrawals," she said, her fingers avoiding the track marks on his arm as she continued rubbing the circulation through his limbs again.

John just stared at the ceiling. "I...was addicted?" he asked incredulously as he reached up with one of his freed hands and gently rubbed his still cloudy head. She nodded, and willed his mind to remember each and every time he had been shot, or blown up, or really anything that had caused him pain. And sure enough, each time he had taken a hit, he pulled out another med-x. Then he recalled consistently having head pains after a while, realizing that it was his addiction punishing him for not feeding it. "What the fuck...?" he asked, less of a question and more of a statement of exasperation.

She looked down at him, her own tired eyes now smiling. "You were having nightmares. The doctor said that usually, the first time someone breaks a habit like this, they dream about spiders swarming all over them," she said, looking down to him for clarification. He just nodded, making her chuckle. "I probably would have died from fright right there. Spiders terrify me," she finished.

He chuckled at the girl's comment, then reached up and pulled her down so that she was laying on him again. "Thank you Lucy, for being here..." he said with a sigh.

"The doc said that as soon as you're awake, you should come see him. He said he had something that could help with the withdrawal effects," she said, looking up at him.

He nodded and began to sit up again. "Guess I better go find him then. Thanks again," he said, before leaning down and kissing her forehead, making her giggle.

OoOoO

When John finally stumbled into the doctor's clinic, he saw Doc Church sitting on the desk, with his cane in his hands as usual, and another man sitting on the surgical table. Both of the figures looked over at the gunman as he approached the white haired doctor.

"Ah, there he is. Good to see you moving again," said the old man as he walked over and pointed to a chair. "Sit," he commanded, making John walk immediately take the chair eagerly. As he sat, Doc Church began hooking up an IV to his arm. The gunman quickly realized that he was being eyed by the man sitting on the table.

"Haven't seen you around here. Just come to Megaton?" asked the gunman as he eyed the stranger who was slouching on the surgical table.

The doctor chuckled as he finally finished the IV. "Actually, you two have met before. But the last time you saw him he looked like a tomato."

Recognition finally dawned on John as he looked at the man again. The swelling had mostly vanished from the stranger's face, though he still had a cut here and there. But now that he had a clear view of the man's features, he felt his skin crawl, his hand aching to reach for a gun he didn't have on him.

"Yeah...I was pretty messed up when I came in. If it wasn't for the doctor here and a few volunteers, I'd probably be radscorpion food by now," said the man as he looked at the ground. John fixed the man with a glare, while in his head, rolling over the pros and cons of nabbing the doctor's cane to beat him with.

"So, what's your name?" asked the former vault dweller.

The man thought for a moment before answering. "Michael. My name is Michael," he said, his now shorter hair having been cut since his surgery.

John cocked an eyebrow at him. "You hesitated for a second," he pointed out, strangely sensing on odd peacefulness from the raider.

The man nodded, running his hand through his newly shorn hair. "I...want to be honest with everyone. I used to be a raider, and used to go by the name Dozer." John nodded, and the man continued. "It was given to me by the gang for how easily I could..." he said, then stopped.

John chuckled. "Plow?" he asked, knowing the innuendo for what it was.

The man nodded slightly. "I was very popular among the women. But..." he said and released a heavy sigh. "I'm no longer that person. I have been reborn in the light of the Archangel. As such, I will no longer need such a filthy name."

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, but Archangel?" asked John as he felt the cool liquid from the IV finally start to pump into his system.

Michael nodded eagerly, his mood changing and looking as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I was at Super Duper Mart with the gang that made its home there. The...Chainspikes...Spikechains...whatever. As I was there, I heard a loud explosion from inside the store while I was...bulldozing," he said, looking away in shame. "When I went to check on it, the entire store was consumed in fire, and everyone was dead. They were taken apart by a single figure bearing a sword of fire in one hand and a rifle in the other," he said, his voice upping in scale as if he were preaching from a pulpit.

John stared at him in shock. "A sword of fire?" he asked bewildered. He remembered the machete he had stolen, but it wasn't on fire. Then again, with the fire blazing all around them, it wasn't out of the question that the reflective side of the blade may have mirrored the flames, creating the illusion of it being flaming. John glared over at Doc Church as the man began chuckling.

Michael nodded with a smile. "A blade of fire. He had fire in his eyes as well," he said, tapping his temple. John rubbed his forehead, noting that the glass from his goggles might have had the same effect. "Even when my...err...partner came out and tried to kill him, she fired so many rounds! But not a single one hit him, and he smote her with his blade. It was the single most glorious, and terrifying thing I have ever seen. For some reason, the Archangel let me go. He didn't kill me, despite my sinful ways. So, as terrified as I was, I ran. I ran until I ran into the rest of the Spikechains... or Chainspikes...or whatever. They found me and grabbed me. I tried to tell them that they would die if they were to go back, but they went anyway. I told them he'd kill them and they didn't believe me! Why didn't they believe me!?" the man cried out in frustration.

John just looked away awkwardly. He was there, doing the job for Moira, and trying to save his own ass, while making his own job easier. He didn't expect from that one explosion he'd get a reputation as a holy figure. But he turned back to the man and continued his questions. "What happened after you told them?"

"They beat me senseless. Then my former leader put a bullet in my back after calling me a coward," he said sighing, then cleared his throat. "Not to be vain or petty, but I heard from the good doctor here..." at this, John snorted, which got him a middle finger from Doc Church. Michael looked between them both, then continued. "The doctor told me that the gang had indeed been wiped out, down to the last man. So I guess they now have judgement in the Lord's eyes awaiting them."

Doc Church went from chuckling, to full blown laughing, his deep voice echoing across the clinic. Both of the men looked at him as he stood up with his cane and walked over to John. "You know the procedure when you're finished here. You aren't allowed to go anywhere until I see that this shit is out of your system for good," he told the gunman. John looked outraged as the doctor turned to Michael. "You're free to go when you like," he said, then walked to the door, still laughing loudly.

"He's a very strange man," said Michael as his eyes lingered on the door. Then he turned to John, a curious look in his eyes. "So...how about you? What do you do here?"

John looked at him with surprise. "I...don't really know. I...get things done for people I guess," he said, scratching his hair. He had never really thought about what he did, or what title it would hold. He just strove to make the wasteland better.

The man's curiosity piqued at the declaration. "So, if I were to ask you if you could find something for me, you'd do it?"

John shrugged indifferently. "It depends really. If you want a vintage brandy of the 1900's, or a working car, then I'm afraid I don't really have the time or resources to put into a search like that. But, if you need something that you know the location of, or that I can easily find in my travels, then I'll definitely keep an eye out for it and bring it back," he finished, turning to see the bag hanging next to him half empty.

The man set his chin in his hand and nodded, thinking to himself. Then, he looked up at John. "I would like you to find me a Bible."

John cocked an eyebrow, then thought about it for a moment. "I don't think that's too tall of an ask. I'll keep an eye out for one," said John, looking up at the man's now grateful expression.

"Thank you! It would mean much to me," he said bowing his head respectfully.

"So, what do you plan to do now that your raiding days are over?" asked the gunman as he lit the last yacht club in the pack.

"I'm...not sure. I'd like to get by just telling my story. But I'm not sure if that'll go over well here, what with the Children of Atom," he said, scratching his head nervously. "I'd really like to stay here. Just thinking about going into the wastes again haunts me, but I'd prefer to be somewhere where I can spread the word," he said, his tone a bit disappointed.

John nodded sagely. "This is a free city. Though you may have some verbal scuffles with the Children of Atom, you are just as free to preach here as they are. And if they have an issue with it, then they can have a word with me or Sheriff Simms."

The man looked at him, then smiled and bowed his head. "Thank you...I didn't expect such kindness from someone here, especially given my history" he said, the last part coming out quieter than the rest. "Perhaps you can also find me a place where I may conduct my preaching?" he asked, his expression showing he was hopeful, but not expecting a miracle.

John chuckled lightly. "If I were you, I'd take some time to look around town. Confessor Cromwell stands at the bomb because he was called to it. You may have a similar experience," he finished as he looked up and saw the last of the fluids from the IV drain into him. Sitting up, he pressed a cloth to the puncture site and slid the needle out of his skin. Once he was free from the tubing, he stood up and cleaned the site, before wrapping the cloth around it. "So...have you seen this Archangel since the Super Duper Mart?"

Michael looked at him oddly. "I...don't know what you mean," he said, a confused expression masking his face.

"You know that it was likely a real person right?" John asked, trying to do damage control on the new nickname.

The man shook his head defiantly. "No, I saw fire in his eyes, quite literally. And I know when I've seen a shishcabob...or whatever those damn things are called. This was no machine. It was a blade, and it was made of flames," he said firmly as he crossed his arms.

John shrugged and headed for the door. "Just thought I'd ask. In any case, try to get ahold of me when you find a place to stay. That way I know where to bring your book to," he said, getting a nod from the man. When John left the clinic, he just chuckled and shook his head. "Who am I to shatter his dreams?" he asked nobody in particular. He supposed that he didn't have to steal the fire from the man's convictions. All he really needed to do was detach himself from the incident so that he wouldn't be targeted with the idea of being some holy figure. That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

When he made it back to his house, he plopped down on the couch and just leaned back with a sigh. "How'd it go?" asked a female voice from above. John opened his eyes and looked at the girl, who's hair now draped down around her face instead of being tied into a ponytail. His eyes widened slightly, never having seen her hair down before.

"He just gave me some fluids to flush everything out. I'm probably going to be using the bathroom quite a bit over the next week," he said with a chuckle. "Ended up meeting a curious ex-raider too. He claimed that an Archangel from God scared him out of his raiding ways at Super Duper Mart."

Lucy came down the stairs and eyed him curiously. "Isn't that where you went last week?" she asked curiously, making him nod. "So...he thinks you were some kind of angel of death?" John nodded once again. Lucy chuckled sat next to him on the couch with his hunting rifle. "If only he knew you were actually a giant teddy bear," she said, nudging him with her elbow.

He chuckled and nuzzled into her shoulder, looking down at the rifle in her hands. "Going hunting?"

She waved the question off with her hand. "No no, I took it apart while you were gone to see the differences. So far it looks like the only thing that needs replaced is the barrel. Everything else looks like it's in good condition," she remarked as she opened the chamber a few times to test the smoothness of the mechanism. He pulled away and cocked an eyebrow.

"A case of the student surpassing the master huh?" he asked jokingly, earning him a stern glare from the girl.

"Oh please. You could probably do this blindfolded. Not to mention there are still many parts in here that I have no clue as to what they do," she said, leaning the bent rifle against the couch. "So, what's in the day planner?" she asked as she now held his energy weapon, cleaning the dirt and grime from the wasteland off with a rag.

"Hungry...you hungry?" he asked, his head turning towards her as it leaned back on the top of the couch.

"I could eat," she said simply, a small flush starting to creep over her face. He noticed the reaction, and tilted his head curiously as she looked away to hide her embarrassment. "I...I've never had a guy ask me out to dinner before," she responded meekly.

He tried, but he failed. He knew from experience with Amata that laughing when a girl revealed something about herself to a guy she trusted was never a good thing. In fact, in the list of all the bad things you could verbally do to a girl you liked, that was among the worst. It had gotten him distant glares and a cold shoulder for a week back when he was twelve. But this time, he got his toes smashed by the butt of his large energy weapon.

His foot flew up onto the couch, where he clamped his hands around the throbbing appendages, his face squished in a mask of pain. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow! What was that for!?" he asked incredulously.

She just glared at him. "We both know what that was for," she said, laying the large weapon in her lap and continuing to clean it again. After a long awkward silence, she looked over as he chuckled again.

"My bad. Sometimes I'm a bit thick when it comes to girls," he said, rubbing the soreness out of his toes. "I've been stuck in a vault my entire life, where everybody knows everything about everybody. Secrets are rarely kept quiet for long." She nodded, chuckling herself.

"No worries. So, are you going to take me out, or not?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the barrel of the weapon to keep from seeming too interested.

"Depends on if I can walk," he said, avoiding another glare sent his way. He stood and wiggled the digits, then grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head. Reaching down, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Well, let's go then," he said, leading her out the door.

A couple minutes later, and both of them were sitting at a stool in front of the small bar at the Brass Lantern. Jenny Stahl was currently cooking some meat for them on her small improvised grill that she had put together. "So kid, heard you had a rough night last night," said the older woman as she turned to the pair.

John nodded, a bit uncomfortable about everyone in the town knowing about his episode. "Yeah...hopefully that will be the last time."

"I hope so. It's a tough thing to fight," she said, her face revealing that she had some experience in that kind of situation. But her face softened again as she slapped the meat onto a pair of plates. "Either way, I'm glad to see you back on your feet. And I hope that this kind of hurdle doesn't stop the Archangel from doing his good deeds in the wasteland," she said with an amused smirk.

John looked up at her, an expression of shock on his face. He stared at her for a long moment before sighing and burying his face in his hands. "How many?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "How many what?"

"How many other people know about the whole Archangel thing?" he questioned, his voice grumbling, which sent Lucy into a fit of giggling. His glare only made her giggle more.

"Oh, I'd say about...somewhere around...the whole city," responded Jenny as she reached back into her now cooling refrigerator and grabbed a bottle, then spread its contents over the meat in front of them. "Funny thing is, the poor guy genuinely believes he saw an angel. No matter how many people tell him that what he saw was a guy, he refuses to believe it," she said, pushing the plates towards them.

He just sighed and looked at her between his fingers. "I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Bad, because he's now delusional, or good, because he doesn't think I'm some kind of divine being," he said as he set in to eating his plate of meat.

"So mister Archangel, care to pay for my dinner," asked Lucy, an innocent, dreamy look on her face.

"Keep making fun of me and I'll kick that adorable tush back to the house," he threatened, sending both women into laughter.

When the meal was finished, they both sat at the counter drinking a cold beer and chit chatting with Ms. Stahl and Maggie, who had come by for dinner. But the talking stopped when Sheriff Simms approached them. "Hey John, I've got something on the radio that you need to hear," said the man as he nudged the gunman with his elbow.

John turned and looked at him curiously. "What is it? Did that President Eden guy have a kid or something?" he asked with a smirk. But his jovial nature vanished when he saw that Lucas was far from kidding. "What is it?"

"You should listen to it yourself. It's broadcasting now, so you should be able to pull it up on your pipboy." John nodded, then started to scan through the frequencies on his radio. Almost immediately, he found the signal, and it started playing again.

 _"I repeat, this is Defender Morrill with the Outcasts, reporting from an outpost in Bailey's Crossroads. We are looking for anyone in the Capital Wasteland who may have a specific piece of Vault-Tec equipment called a Personal Information Processor. If you happen to have one of these devices, meet us at the Bailey's Crossroads. And if you manage to catch one of the live broadcasts, hail us back on this frequency," said_ a mysterious voice over the recording.

After the broadcast ended, it started at the beginning again. John shut the radio off and looked up at Simms. "Do you know when they broadcast live?" he asked.

"The last broadcast before that one was live. It sounds like they do it about every hour or so. If you keep an ear on it, you can probably listen for them. But..." he said, a look of concern on his face. "Are you going to go to them?"

John looked the sheriff over curiously. "You seem concerned. Is there something I should know about these Outcasts?"

Lucas shrugged. "They've never crossed my path before. But I've heard from a few friends of mine that they're not that great of people. They have a mission, and if their mission leads to saving you, they'll do it. But if it goes through you, they'll have no problem removing you as an obstacle," said the sheriff in a grim tone.

"So, let's say they wanted my pipboy here..." said John, tapping on the computer on his arm.

"They'd more than likely kill you and take it off you," said the sheriff, making Lucy eye the two as they stopped talking and let the thought sink in.

"So don't help them," she chimed in. They both looked at her, John smiling and Lucas chuckling. "What?" she asked huffily.

"I like the attitude," said John he leaned over towards her. She elbowed him in the side playfully.

"They promised a reward on the live broadcast. And a reward from the Outcasts could be something big," said the sheriff, scratching his bearded chin. "They're a bunch of tech hoarders, so it could be something good. But then again, is it worth the risk that they might end up hacking your arm off?"

John thought about it for a moment. "The doc said I'm not to do anything strenuous for a while. So I'll need to discuss with them exactly what it is they want me to do. We'll see what I can work around then," he said getting a nod from Lucas.

"Alright, just be sure that whatever you do, take precautions. We almost lost you once already, it'd be a damn shame if you walked into a trap right after your recovery," said Lucas as he tipped his hat, then turned and was off once again, his sheriff duster swirling as the wind picked up.

"How are you going to get there if you can't do anything strenuous?" asked Lucy in a concerned undertone that John didn't miss.

"I'll have to hire someone to take me. Or have them come here and get me," he said, thinking about it as he puffed on a cigarette known as a Square that Jenny had given him. "I guess I'll have to talk to them and find out," he said, then turned to her with a smile. "Come on, let's go home."

An hour later, John sat with his pipboy radio set to the radio frequency of the Outcasts and waited. He had already heard the looped message a few times, the monotonous message making him twitch every time he heard it. But after about ten minutes of the unending looped message, a human voice finally came from the pipboy.

 _"This is Defender Morrill. If you're hearing this, I ask you to respond to the message you've heard. The Outcasts are looking for someone with a Vault-Tec created Personal Information Processor, and are willing to reward anyone who comes forward with any knowledge of where to find one, or if they have one themselves. If anyone hears this, please respond," said_ the voice.

"Defender Morrill, this is John Ronas, talking to you over said Vault-Tec pipboy version 3000. I wish to discuss with you the terms of my journey to the Bailey's Crossroads Metro," responded the gunman over the comm.

The voice was silent for a long moment. _"Alright Mr. Ronas. From where are you radioing?"_ asked the Outcast.

"Defender, if I told you that, there's a possibility that you could find me and take my pipboy without negotiations. So instead, why don't you tell me what you need me to do, so I can decide if I am capable," he ordered, unsure of how the mechanical sounding voice would take the suspicion.

Again, the radio was silent for a long moment. Then the voice popped up again. _"Alright Mr. Ronas, here's what we need..."_


	15. Meeting Halfway

OoO( 15 )OoO

The rest of the day had been rather calm in the settlement of Megaton. After his talk on the radio with the mysterious Outcasts, the gunman and his affectionate friend Lucy decided to stay indoors for the rest of the day, whether to rest or perform other recreational activities was anyone's guess. Gob had been at work most of the day, surprising customers with a jovial smile as they entered rather than his typical, depressive, cowering self. They even noticed that Moriarty had an annoyed look on his face as the ghoul greeted them with enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Billy and Maggie were sitting at the Brass Lantern, chowing down on dinner and talking amiably with Jenny Stahl, when Maggie squeaked in surprise. Billy looked over curiously and saw the small form of an Enclave eyebot floating towards them. "The hell?" was all Billy asked as he pushed away from the counter and eyed the mechanism dangerously.

"What is that?" asked the young girl as she eyed the floating bot with youthful curiosity.

"Don't go near it Maggie…" warned Billy as he stepped up next to her, even as the drone floated towards them.

Jenny looked up as well, noticing the drone wearing a neutral face on its frontal screen. She chuckled at how uniquely animated the small bot was. "That's Liberty. He's kind of John's guard dog," said the sandy blond woman as she leaned over the counter.

"Wow! Really?" asked Maggie as she eyed Liberty excitedly. Billy, though amused at Maggie's sense of wonder, kept an eye on the robot. He still wasn't too sure about the small, aggressive looking automaton. Maggie, however, was oblivious to the potential danger, and stood up on her stool and waved to the little robot. "Hi Liberty!" she said happily.

The mechanoid turned to her, looking the girl up and down before responding.  _"_ **[ò_ó]**   _Greetings citizen. What can the defender of democracy do for you today?"_  asked Liberty in his still deep, aggressive tone.

Maggie smiled wider when the robot talked to her. "He does talk! Can you change your face?"

" _Indeed citizen! My display screen is functional as a map, a social interface for citizens such as yourself, an egg timer, and motivator for the soldiers and terror for the red scum,"_  he said, his face screen changing to a waving American flag.

Maggie seemed awed by the small robotic creature. Billy just looked at it oddly. "Is it...actually talking to us? That doesn't sound like a normal robot..." he added. "Liberty, are you a robot?"

 _"_ **[ò_ó]**   _I am an artificial mechanical intelligence, created from the combination of Enclave surveillance technology, and Rob Co. Industry software, reprogrammed by the communist known as John Ronas,"_ he claimed as his face changed back to his usual expression.

Billy scratched his head. "What I mean is, do you think?" asked the one-eyed man curiously.

 _"I have the cognition and ability to make judgment calls should the need arise, and I have the ability to learn and adapt to my surroundings," said_  the small robot. Billy sighed in contemplation and looked at the robot.  _"You wish to know if I am capable of the higher process of sapience?"_  it asked as it turned its emoting face to the man, getting a nod in return.  _"I am a thinking and reasoning machine with the capability to do as I please. I was programmed with subroutines, what you humans may call a conscience. These act as a deciding factor in all future decisions. Worry not, communist dog. I enjoy the company of peaceful people, and fight to protect such life from those who would take democracy from the people."_

"But how long will that last. Don't machines usually end up turning on humans?" asked Leo Stahl as he walked out of the Brass Lantern and caught the tail end of the conversation. There was a bit of a slur in his speech, making Jenny turn away in irritation.

Liberty turned to the figure.  _"Everyday humans war against one another, rip other human's bodies apart and hang said parts from hooks as decorations. You wish to know if I am capable of turning on humans? Of course, I am. With sapience comes choice. And I choose to side with peace, and the elimination of those who would disturb the peace,"_  it said as it floated closer to the man as its face changing from neutral to a more accusing expression.  _"_ **[=_=]**   _The question could be asked, if you are capable of such as well, why should the citizens of Megaton not be afraid of you?"_

Leo looked away uncomfortable. "I...would never kill anyone," said the man.

 _"You have the capability, especially with the traces of amphetamines currently in your system, which lowers social restraints and deadens some higher thought processes," said_  the robot accusingly.  _"Are they to assume that because you are capable of killing, and you are intoxicating yourself with recreational drugs, that you are less capable of killing than I?"_

Leo just shook his head with a glare, then went back inside the restaurant, not noticing the snicker from his sister. Billy then took up the line of questioning. "Apologies if my question was offending. I was just curious because of your manner of speech. When you talk about killing all communists, then call your creator a communist, it kinda creates tension," said the eye-patched man.

Liberty's face changed back to normal.  _"_ **[ò_ó]** _Confusion is understandable. Part of the subroutines that gave me a conscience also gave me this personality template. But be aware that the distinction between threats and non-threats is very clear to me."_

At that point, Maggie decided to chime in. "Can you make this face?" she asked, smiling so big that all of her teeth were showing. The small bot turned to her, then his expression changed again to match hers. " **[^∇^** **]** _Of course citizen!"_ Maggie giggled hysterically, and even Billy and Jenny joined in on the laughing.  _"_ **[ò_ó]**   _What is this establishments purpose?"_  asked the small robot, returning its expression back to neutral.

"It's a restaurant," Maggie replied to her new friend. The robot looked down at her questioningly. "Oh...ummm...human refueling station?" she asked, scratching her head, trying to figure out if she got the idea across to the odd drone.

 _"Ah, excellent! Nourishment for young citizens is what makes America strong!"_  said the small bot cheerfully, making Maggie giggle madly again.

OoOoO

John had decided that a long nap was in order before he ended up traveling halfway across the wasteland, especially if he took into consideration his recent condition. He had Doc Church in his home, monitoring him for a little while before okaying him for walking. But the older man eyed the wanderer sternly. "No fighting, no running, no lifting. Nothing that could make you fall into a seizure and start hallucinating again. You might not come back this time," he ordered as he left the young man's house.

The rest of the night, he slept heavily, with Lucy again laying next to him while snuggled into his side. When he awoke, he began to pack his gear, slinging the energy rifle over his back, as well as a shotgun that he had grown to like, and Miss Schenzy's grenade launcher.

Lucy had awoken with him and eyed him warily. "I thought the doc told you to take it easy," she said worriedly as she looked from him to his firearms.

He looked at her and chuckled, reaching down to ruffle her messy blonde hair. "This is the Capital Wasteland dear. Where even easy is a pain in the ass. Besides, I'd rather be under stress and alive, than not prepared and dead," he finished as he pulled his pack of supplies onto his shoulders.

"Who's taking you?" she asked as she planted her hands on her hips.

John grimaced at his answer. "The Outcasts are going to meet us halfway. Until then, I've paid Jericho a sum of caps to keep the bullets off me should they come flying," he said, then turned back to her. "I'll be gone for a few days. So, take care of Wadsworth and the house for me, alright?"

The tone of his voice made her smile widely. "Don't worry, I will," she said, standing up and hugging him through his thick duster. What she didn't expect though was when he spun her around and kissed her fully on the lips. Her face immediately turned bright red, but instead of flailing or pushing away from him, she just practically melted in his arms, her own wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

When finally they pulled away, John just put his head against hers and smiled. "Oh, and be sure to feed Gob some snack cakes. He gets irritable if you don't." She began giggling like a lunatic, both from the joke and from the fact that she was so high on oxytocin that she felt like she could fly. Finally, he turned away and walked out the door.

"'Bout fucking time," said the man waiting for him outside. "I got shit to do kid. If you wanna play hide the sausage, do it on someone else's time."

"Jericho, I'm the one paying you. That means your time is whatever the hell I say it is. Now, I'm paying you for your gun, not your mouth. So shut up and let's get moving," said John as he walked past the man towards the front gates.

Jericho stopped for a moment, stunned to silence. Then he began laughing loudly. "I fucking like you kid. You got balls to shit talk to one who's gonna be watchin' your back."

John just turned and smiled wryly as they both exited the gates to the city. "Oh, you'll keep watching my back. Otherwise, Simms will be more than happy to take my caps elsewhere should I not return." This earned the gunman a glare from the ex-raider.

"I don't like people fucking around with my money," said the ex-raider as he lit a Square and puffed on it heavily.

"No offense Jericho, you seem like a nice guy and all, but I don't trust you. I wouldn't trust you to cook my food properly, let alone watch my back. So forgive me, but I don't fucking care what you don't like. If you fuck me and put a bullet in my back out here, Simms puts a bullet in you. If you lead me to the Outcasts and I radio the okay, you go back and get your caps. Then you can crawl back into whatever bottle you want," said the wastelander as he pulled the long-range energy weapon off his back.

Jericho just cocked an eyebrow and a small smile. "I like the way you do business kid. But what if someone else caps you out there?"

"Then why the hell would you get paid?" asked John as he shrugged. Jericho stood for a moment, then shrugged in agreeance as the pair of them left the gates of Megaton and headed south.

Jericho cleared his throat and drank from a bottle that he pulled from his own pack. "Cost of doing business huh?" he asked, getting a nod. "Sounds like fun. Besides, I know you aren't any pushover yourself Mr. Archangel," said the ex-raider, who smiled widely when John glared at him.

"Just ignore him...he's trying to push your buttons…" growled John as he flipped his collar up and continued the journey.

The pair traveled together for almost a full day in silence before they decided to make camp for the night. Neither of them wanted to use a fire, so they just bundled up in their thick coats and sat with their backs to a stone ridge, watching out in front of them for any sign of movement. They made a meal of roasted iguana, then set about their watches. John kept watch first, his high powered rifle in his hands as his green eyes scanned the darkened landscape.

Hours had passed without incident, leading to him waking up the snoring raider for his watch. Jericho, upon waking up, immediately went for his bottle of whiskey from the pack he had brought along. When John saw the mercenary down a gulp of the firewater, he just shook his head. "Try not to get so torched that you pass out."

"Fuck you. I aim better when I'm drunk," said the man as he swilled down some of the fiery liquor. John laid on his side, his gaze facing the same way as when he was on guard. But sleep found him quickly.

After what felt like a whole ten seconds of snoozing, however, he felt Jericho pulling on his boot. Waking up, he looked up at the ex-raider. "What is it?"

"We got a group heading straight for us," said Jericho as he held his assault rifle at the ready. John pulled up his own weapon and aimed down the scope to see who was approaching.

 _"Mr. Ronas, if that's you, I advise you not to aim your weapon at us. We should be within range in a few minutes,"_  came the voice of Defender Morrill over his pipboy.

"Shit..." said Jericho as he tossed his cigarette aside. John looked at him questioningly. "Thought there was actually gonna be some action," he said, disappointment apparent in his voice. John just chuckled and lowered his weapon, awaiting the approach of the armored figures.

When they finally arrived, there were three of them. All standing at least a head taller than John and Jericho. The armor made the former vault dweller uneasy, his last encounter with an armored foe burned into his mind. But all three of the black-armored figures lowered their weapons as they approached.

Defender Morrill, the towering figure in the center, spotted the pipboy on John's arm and immediately walked up to him, while the others made a surrounding formation. Before anyone could say anything else, the Outcast behind John said,  _"You gotta be fucking kidding me..."_

John looked at the figure curiously. "Is there a problem?" he asked, less than comfortable with the three looking as if they were cornering him and his mercenary.

 _"Duster, energy rifle, wolf insignia...this is that Wanderer kid from the radio isn't it?"_  asked one of the sentinels.

"Radio? I'm on the radio?" John asked incredulously as he turned to look at the man.

One of the mechanized figures chuckled.  _"Hell yeah kid. You're the talk of the wasteland recently. Vampire slaying, exploding raiders, vaporizing terrorists, you name it. Fucking hell, didn't think you were actually real," said_  the man as he admired the design of the wolf on the young man's coat. Jericho just burst into maniacal laughter at the stories, scoring a near laser beam glare from John.

 _"Alright ladies, autographs can come later. Right now we have business to take care of,"_ said Morrill as he turned back to John.  _"Care to show me the device?"_  he asked, politely enough.

John nodded, then walked forward. "Just a friendly warning, if this device detaches from my vitals without a password, the nuclear cell powering it will detonate, destroying the device and myself," said the wanderer as he eyed the blacked out eye visors in the helmet. He could hear Morrill chuckle.

 _"Very clever of you my friend. But that won't be necessary. We just need to verify that it can interface with the technology we mentioned,"_  he said, then scanned the pipboy thoroughly. After a few moments, he nodded.  _"Alright boys, looks like we got a winner. Let's get him back to Protector McGraw,"_ said the titan as he began walking back towards the horizon. The others followed, as well as John.

When John looked back, he noticed that Jericho was still following him. "You can go home now Jericho. Your job's done."

The man just smirked, the new Square hanging from his lips as he followed. "My ass. This sounds like fun."

John chuckled and turned to face their destination again. "Alright. But I'm not paying you more," he told the mercenary as they walked together in the middle of the robotic armored figures.

"If this ends up in a hell of a firefight, you won't have to pay me anymore," said the man as they continued to plow through the darkness.

When they finally made it to the crossroads, they all had to slam through a hoard of super mutants that had stationed themselves outside the outpost. Jericho started laughing like a crazy man as he fired into the night, taking down a single of the large green beasts with his assault rifle. John managed to kill off three with quick scoped shots to their cranium with the Gauss Rifle. But the majority of the big greens fell to the waves of death pouring from a pair of Gatling lasers that the Outcasts were wielding.

Mutant after mutant fell from the ruins of the metro station with scorch marks and fire spouting from every orifice. John continued walking with the armored figures after the battle, a Square now in his mouth. He looked over at Jericho who had a giant smile on his face. "What crawled up your ass all the sudden?"

The ex-raider just grinned at him, letting out a cloud of poisonous smoke as he did. "This is what I signed up for! Killing shit!" he declared as he almost immediately inhaled more smoke. John could have sworn that this was the closest he had ever seen Jericho being happy. So the younger man just smirked, then continued to follow the armored trio further into the ruins.

It was only one more firefight, and a few minutes later when they finally came to a service elevator that led into an underground Vault-Tec bunker. "Well, this isn't ominous at all," said John as he felt the floor beneath him start sinking into the ground. Defender Morrill chuckled again, putting his heavy gatling weapon away before they reached the bottom.

 _"Don't worry, it gets better inside. Lotsa home decor and curtains,"_  he said, making everyone but Jericho laugh. The armored door in front of them slid open, showing a long hallway lit by the same kind of ambient lighting that was built into the corners of each hallway back in the vault. It was at that moment that the wanderer got chills down his spine from the familiarity of it all.

"Is this the caveman?" asked a sharp, feminine voice. They looked over and a blonde woman stepped out of the room coming out of the side of the hallway.

 _"Mr. Ronas, this is specialist Olin. She will be your instructor on how the technology works,"_  said Morrill as he waved towards the blond newcomer.

The woman sighed and walked down the hallway ahead of them wearing long robes of some fashion. "Follow me please, and don't touch anything. I don't want this place going up in flames," she said with an irritable tone.

 _"Don't worry, she's like that with everyone,"_  said Morrill as he led John and Jericho further down into the base. When they reached the bottom floor, John was awed by the large blast door that stood in front of him.

"Is that the armory?" he asked, reaching up and knocking on the solid door. He noticed as soon as he did that the door absorbed the kinetic energy from the knock, displacing it elsewhere. "Dear God...that thing would probably still be around if the earth exploded."

"That'd be correct," said a new voice, this one with a southern drawl. John looked over and saw four new armored figures coming down a different hallway towards them. Two of them didn't have helmets on, one dark-skinned and buzz cut, and the other, a taller, tanned man with a high and tight marine cut. It turned out that the marine cut man was the one with the accent. "What y'all are lookin' at is the reason Vault-Tec was able to make their experimental underground habitats," said the man as he stepped up to the group.

 _"This is Protector McGraw. He is in charge of this outpost, and the reason you're here right now,"_  said Morrill.  _"And Defender Sibley, his second in command."_  John looked over at Defender Morrill. He noticed in mentioning the second in command, a bit of a sour note in the otherwise cheerful Outcast's voice.  _"Well, this is where we part. My team and I are headed back up to make sure that the muties don't come knocking. So we'll be on our way. Good luck."_  finished the armored figure as he nodded to McGraw, John, and Olin. Then, he and his two other brethren left.

John looked over at the southern commander and nodded. "John Ronas. Good to meet you, Protector McGraw," he said, holding his hand out. The marine cut man smiled and shook his hand.

"Not everyday ya find someone with your manners in the wasteland. In any case, Specialist Olin here'll brief you on what needs to be done in order to open the armory," he said, looking over to Olin.

For the first time, the second-in-command spoke up. "Why the hell are we messing around with this wastrel? Why not just take the damn thing off his arm?" asked Sibley, a sour look on his face as he glared at the gunman.

Immediately, John's impression of the man tanked to the bottom. "I can see why you'd think manners are a rare occurrence," said John with a sour expression masking his face. Sibley's face registered shock at actually being talked back to.

The defender stepped forward. "I didn't ask for your damn opinion caveman. Now keep your mouth shut before I follow through and take the damn computer from you," snapped the defender sharply. Sibley, however battle hardened he was, didn't realize he had stepped into very dangerous territory.

John smiled widely, grabbing the defender by the back of the head and pressing their foreheads together as if embracing him. The move kept the defender's eyes locked on his, and kept him from moving anywhere. John held up the wrist-mounted computer and gave a maniacal grin. "This pipboy is armed to self-destruct its power cell should my vitals flatline. That means if you pull this off my wrist, flatline. You kill me, flatline. I accidentally push the wrong button, flatline! So go ahead asshole, try and take it from me, and watch as everyone in this room turns to a pile of ash!" he said in a deranged tone that made even Jericho take a step back. When Sibley didn't move and said nothing to retaliate, John let him go and took a step back. "I came here voluntarily. If you'd like, I can take my shit and go," he said, his gaze never leaving Sibley.

"That won't be necessary. We're more than willing to cooperate with you," said Protector McGraw as he stepped between the two. John turned to him and nodded. McGraw turned to Sibley with a glare. "Go reinforce the elevator," he ordered, making the second in command sneer, then walk off heavily, followed by two of his own group.

"You sure know how to pick 'em," said John as he watched the man go.

Protector McGraw turned back to the gunman with a stony expression. "While I understand that you may not like the man, I'll not have my choice in lieutenants questioned while here. Is that understood?" he asked sternly. John looked up at him, then gave him a respectful nod. Then the commander smiled. "Good. Now that the hostilities are out of the way, we're glad to have you here."

John smiled back at the man. "So, mind telling me what exactly it is that requires a pipboy around here?" he asked curiously. "Morrill said it was some kind of simulator."

Protector McGraw began walking down the hall, along with Specialist Olin and Jericho. John followed as the commander answered his questions. "The system connected to this armory is pretty old and is very detailed in its operating systems. It turns out that it was designed to train a type of super soldier for combat against the Chinese invaders in Alaska."

"I've never heard of any super soldier program," said John, raising an eyebrow at the southern man.

"Big surprise!" said the woman next to them, getting an irritated look from the gunman. She finally relented. "It was discreet, even among the upper echelons of the US government. The Chinese had a spy in with the defense department who had actually leaked the plans for these soldiers to the Consulate back in Red China. So, they were to be mixed in with regular troops to prevent the Chinese from being able to leak mission details. Unless you were in the Pentagon at the time, or you had extremely high level top secret access to the US military database, then you wouldn't know."

John nodded in understanding. "So, this was meant to be kind of their home base. A place to resupply and go out again?" he asked, getting a nod from the blonde specialist. "So why the hell is there one out here in the middle of DC?"

She looked at John and smiled smartly. "The Chinese spy," she said, tapping her nose. John immediately dawned a look of understanding. "There was one soldier, designated Grey Fox, that was centered here in DC in order to hunt down the intelligence leak and get rid of him by any means."

"So the Vault-Tec company created these as a prototype for the vault underground environments. And because Vault-Tec created it, then Grey Fox needed to have a pipboy as well," he said, adding up the rest of the equation. Then he turned to Olin. "How will that work with me though? Wouldn't the computer require this Grey Fox's vital information in order for it to even interact?"

The small group eventually made it into a room with an egg-shaped stasis chamber, right in front of a large computer screen, almost as big as a vault door. "Normally, that would be a concern. However, Grey Fox never arrived here to input his information into the system. So..." said Specialist Olin as she powered up the computer screen. In the dead center of the screen, there was a message that read  **'Insert hand with Personal Information Processor to establish security protocols.'**  John looked down and saw the circular hole with the scanner inside. "That's part of where you come in."

He eyed the hole suspiciously, then looked back at the smirking Specialist Olin. "You want me to put my hand in there?" he asked, pointing at the dark crevice with a look of agitation on his face. She just nodded, looking like she was on the verge of laughing. Holding up his pipboy, he asked, "I changed my mind, wanna take it from me?" he asked, half-jokingly.

"Oh no! I couldn't possibly! Besides, you know, the whole turning everyone in the room to ash thing," she said, enjoying tormenting the gunman.

John just sighed, then slid his arm into the slot. Immediately, two pads on either side of the inside clamped down on his arm, making sure it didn't move. He felt something automatically plug into the pipboy, probably to scan the vital data of the user. Then, he felt something sharp stab into the palm of his hand. He jerked back from the machine, but to no avail. He was clamped firmly into the slot, and short of chewing through his arm, he likely wouldn't be getting out of it until the process was over.

 _"DNA analysis and blood sample extracted. Now harvesting vital statistics form Personal Information Processor,"_  said and almost childlike female voice from the large screen. It was about five more minutes before the gunman finally fell backward, clutching his hand which now had a large cut across the palm.

"Son of a bitch..." he growled as he clutched the injured appendage. Specialist Olin tossed him a bandage and a stimpak, still chuckling.

"Suck it up, cowboy. That was step one," she said as all of John's vitals suddenly appeared on the screen. His typical interface, the vault boy with all of his statistics such as body temperature, body fat content, breathing rate, glucose levels, iron count, blood-oxygen levels, even white blood cell count scrolling down the side.

"And what is step two?" he asked curiously, standing up and wrapping the cloth bandage around his hand.

"Well, the soldier in question had to undergo thorough training in order to access his gear. The system you see here..." she said, turning to the egg-shaped chamber. "Is a neural and holographic interface that puts you through multiple scenarios of training that you might come across while fighting the Chinese. It was to make sure that the soldier was actually prepared, both mentally and physically."

He looked the egg over curiously. "So I've got to get inside this thing, then go through training simulations in order to get the armory door open?" he asked, getting a nod from Specialist Olin. "I hope it's as easy as Zeta Invaders."

"I'm afraid not. These scenarios are designed for a super soldier, not some average joe," she said to him, her face adopting a surprising look of concern. "If you want to leave, we can deprogram your information from the computer and you can leave."

He glared at her. "You just want me to stick my hand in the hole again," he said, getting a genuine chuckle from her. "I'm willing to do it, but let's talk about my return on this." She immediately dropped the cheerful attitude and went back to her regular stern self.

McGraw, who had been staying silent until that point, stepped forward. "Once the armory is open, you'll have your choice of the pick, within reason. No power armor, as you wouldn't know how to use it anyway, and no high yield weapons. We can't have you running around with a tesla cannon. And no offense, but I wouldn't exactly trust you not to kill us as soon as you have it," he said firmly. "Anything else that isn't high priority technology, you can have a share of."

John thought about it, then nodded. "Sounds fair enough. But only under the condition that I can barter. No shoving a laser pistol into my hand and throwing me out the door," he demanded, getting a nod from Protector McGraw.

"Fair enough. So, let's get this thing started," he said with a wide smile.

John turned back to Olin and froze as he saw her with another evil grin. "Get undressed," she said, earning her a stunned look from the gunman.

OoOoO

After about twenty minutes of awkwardly undressing in front of the Outcast scribe, he finally pulled on the interface suit that she handed him. Once it was zipped up, he found it rather tight in some places, as it was similar to a latex suit. He just crossed his arms as the specialist continued to chuckle. "Stop staring at my ass specialist, before I get your EO on the line," he snapped, only making her laugh harder.

Finally, the large egg opened, showing what looked like a recliner built into the center of it. All around the seating were numerous cables, all leading from somewhere below the chair to the sides of the egg-shaped pod.

"This thing must take a massive amount of power to run..." he said, running his hand over the curved edge.

"It does. Now..." she said, looking away so as to not make eye contact. "Be careful. The whole simulation was designed to emulate real life. So if you get shot too much, you could go into cardiac arrest," she said, then looked at him again. Her eyes widened at the grin on his face.

Suddenly he reached out with both arms and made grabby hands at her. "Why specialist, you do care! Why not give me a good luck hug?" he asked, noticing her cringe away from him and step back with a horrified look on her face.

"Ugh, go to hell!" she yelled, making Protector McGraw stifled a laugh behind the two by clearing his throat.

He just chuckled, then sat down in the chair. "Thanks for the concern. And don't worry, I'll be careful," he said, leaning back. Olin walked over and connected all of the appropriate cables before activating the simulation from the computer. John just leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes as a white flash filled his vision, while the two Outcasts and Jericho turned and stared at the screen.


	16. Red Mountains

OoO( 16 )OoO

In reality, it was only a few seconds. But it felt as if he had slept for an entire day when he finally opened his eyes. His head was groggy, his eyelids were heavy, and his muscles sore as if he had just been put through the exercise of his life. But when he finally cleared his vision enough to see, he was started to find himself lying in a thick blanket of snow. On top of that, everything was freezing cold. His entire body was practically numb with the feeling of the biting wind around him.

He felt so tired though, the warmth of sleep calling back to him again as he laid face down in the snow. It felt almost too powerful, as if the further he let his eyelids fall, the warmer he got. But before they could close completely, the image of Lucy, Nova, Simms, and Gob, all of them smiling at him snapped him out of his stupor. His eyes shot open completely, and he moved one arm through the feathery white snow, brushing the frozen blanket aside and planted his hand flat under him. Then, the other arm. His limbs responded slowly, but they definitely listened. Now, both of his palms were planted on the ground under him, and he thrust downwards, liberating him of the cold white eternity, and allowing him to stand.

As he looked around the area, he immediately saw no presence of the Outcasts, no Jericho, no nothing. Instead, he was standing on a cliff overlooking a massive mountain range. Despite the sheer cold of the area, the sky, where visible among the clouds, was an almost pristine blue color. The sun was even clearly shining high behind a particularly thin set of stratus clouds.

He looked down again, this time at his hand. Instead of the interface suit that Specialist Olin had squeezed him into, he now wore military winter camouflage gear. Flexing his hand, his mind reeled. "Is this...real?" he asked incredulously as he felt the wetness from the snow seeping through his gloves. Suddenly, he lifted his hand and slapped himself across the face. The sting, which was made much worse by the cold, made his eyes water. "Okay, it's real enough…" he groaned as he rubbed the spot sorely.

Reaching up, the gunman lifted the goggles that covered his eyes and stared in awe at the simulation before him. It was unbelievable how realistic it was, from the feeling of the cold, to the pain, to every little detail illustrated on the mountains around him. He might have spent a few more minutes just staring at the awesome sight before him if he wasn't immediately alerted by a crash of falling snow, and the sound of boots hitting the ground right next to him.

As if it automatic, his body took a martial arts stance that he was wholly unfamiliar with. But he brushed the oddity aside as he stared at the newcomer. The man was taller than him by a few inches at least and wore the same kind of winterized combat gear. His face was rough, giving him a handsome, rugged look to his features, topped off with short brown hair.

As soon as the stranger looked up towards him, he immediately stood straight and placed his arms behind his back. "You alright sir? You hit pretty hard when the wind caught your chute." asked the man, a note of concern in his voice as he spoke.

John's eyes widened at the words. "Sir? You mean me?" he asked oddly as he pointed to himself.

The man eyed him strangely, giving him a nod. "You are the Captain." said the man matter-of-factly. Then he tilted his head curiously. "Right?"

John looked at the man's rugged face, then down to the patch on his uniform. Despite never having any knowledge of military and the ranks within, he immediately identified the three chevrons and two rockers as belonging to a gunnery sergeant of the marines. Looking down at his own patch, he saw two black bars connected by two thin strips of black, signifying the rank of captain. How he knew these things, he'd have to figure out later. Right now, he had better shit to do.

"Yeah, that's me. And I'm fine for the moment," said John as he dusted the snow off himself. "And you are?" he asked as he eyed the strange marine. The man held forward a Type 93 Chinese assault rifle, otherwise knowns as an AR93. John immediately grabbed the weapon, and once again felt his muscle memory take over as he checked to make sure it was loaded.

"Don't remember me?" asked the man as he chuckled and checked his own weapon. "Damn, that landing must have hit you pretty hard. Though to be honest, I was surprised to find you alive at all. Gunnery Sergeant Benjamin Montgomery. I was supposed to be in the backup assault squad that they sent to take down the cannons. But the storm tore us all apart." he said, looking up into the sky just as the snow started to fall once again. "Looks like out of both our squads, we're the only ones left."

"Oh...good." said the soldier as he shook his head.

Ben chuckled at the reaction before taking a combat helmet off of his belt and strapping it to his head. "Well, you ready to continue the mission, sir?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," John said as he adjusted the goggles. "Before we go, give me a quick briefing on the objective."

"After the Chinese pushed into Anchorage and we lost our foothold, that bastard Jingwei set up anti-aircraft turrets in these mountains to prevent any aid from flying in. Our goal is to send the cannons, and any red commie scum we find to hell," said Sergeant Montgomery as he pointed off into the distance. As if on cue, the sound of three separate artillery cannons firing filled the air. "The guns are way up on top of Mt. Denali. Luckily, there's a path that leads straight to them, but we're gonna have to go through a few Red infested outposts to get there. I've still got the C4 charges that they gave us, so if we're quick and quiet, we can get there, blow them to hell, and get back. But I'll be following your lead Captain."

John sighed at being given the role of leader but figured he shouldn't be surprised given the context of the simulation. "Alright. Let's make this quick," he ordered as he held the AR93 close and began moving through the thick snow of the cliff face towards their destination.

Ben just chuckled at him. "Finally, someone I can work with!" he said excitedly as he pounded the snow while they ran. Together, the two quickly made it to a small walkway built into the side of the cliff.

"Convenient…" John chimed quietly as he used his camouflage to his advantage, poked his head around the edge of a cliff wall and spied two guards standing at the edge of the catwalk ahead of them. John turned to the gunnery sergeant, about to whisper to him when his hand automatically began making callsigns that translated to what he was about to order.

The rugged man immediately nodded, then crouched down and began crawling through the snow towards the catwalk. John, after shaking off his surprise at the ease of communication, followed. Reaching down, he pulled a silenced pistol from his side and checked to make sure it was loaded before continuing to low crawl through the heavy snow. They were making good time before they had to immediately stop as one of the guards looked in their direction. The guard stood there for a long minute, staring through the heavy falling snow as the two lay as still as the dead. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned back towards the gaping chasm.

 _"We're going to have to hurry,"_ came Montgomery's whispering voice over the earpiece that he had installed into his own helmet.

"Affirmative. I've got the twelve o'clock," said John in a whisper as he aimed his pistol at the back of one of the invading soldier's heads. Sergeant Montgomery crawled up through the snow and got to his feet, still keeping low, and began to slowly crouch-walk towards the closest of the two. When he was within range of the man, he reached back and grabbed a combat knife stowed in his belt.

But what he didn't notice was that the far side guard had turned just in time to notice him. However, as the red guard opened his mouth to warn the other, a hole suddenly appeared in his head. He stood still for a moment, before falling backward over the rail. As soon as the man fell, Montgomery jumped forward and wrapped one arm around the remaining guard, then thrust the carbon steel blade into his spine. The man spasmed horribly before the sergeant pushed him off the bloodied weapon and let him fall over the railing and into the white abyss below to join his comrade.

John immediately got to his feet and ran to the catwalk where he immediately began descending the stairs on the far side of it to a cliff edge that made his skin itch. This side of the cliff faced in towards the canyon, which left it wide open to the opposite side where there stood a small scientific outpost that had no doubt been repurposed by the invaders.

The gunman whipped his binoculars up to his face and marked any movement he saw into his memory as Ben slid down next to him. "How many we got up there?" asked the gunnery sergeant.

"Two on the bridge, one in the outpost. There's likely a radio, so once again we're going to have to work fast and quiet unless we want the entirety of the Anchorage invasion force to know we're here," said John as he put away the binoculars. "I'll lead off. With any luck, I'll be able to take out the two on the bridge before the outpost guard even notices."

Ben nodded and prepared his weapon. "Alright. Just don't dally. I'd rather not have the reds swarming down my throat before we even reach the guns."

John drew his pistol once more and snuck along the rock face to the bridge, his camouflage hiding him perfectly as one of the guards approached. He leveled his weapon directly at the man walking towards him on the bridge before squeezing the trigger. The gun let out a muted cry that was drowned out in the howling winds of the storm, ending with a bullet to the invader's shoulder that sent him careening off the edge of the bridge.

John let out a sigh of relief as he sat and waited. Before long, the next one came along with an alert air about him. He was apparently looking for his comrade that had just taken a dive. "I can help you with that buddy," whispered the gunman as he squeezed the trigger again, this time the bullet slamming into the man's back as he looked out over the chasm. The soldier didn't stand a chance as kinetic energy and the rushing wind sent him flying into the abyss as well. "Sergeant, bridge is clear. Move to take the outpost," ordered John through the encrypted two-way radio.

 _"Affirmative. Moving up."_ came back the rough reply from Montgomery. John could make out his figure, if only barely through the falling snow. Lowering his pistol, he followed silently as the wind continued to pound against them while they made their way across the bridge. After clearing the unstable walkway, Ben slid the door open and immediately fired into the small outpost, killing the unsuspecting guard. They both shuffled inside and did a room scan before just bathed in the small amount of heat that the shelter provided.

"Should we radio back?" asked the sergeant curiously.

John thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing to really update them on. And as much as I hate keeping them in the dark, it's possible that using this radio could alert the Chinese that we're here even faster," he said, getting an agreeing nod from his companion.

"Alright, so now that this place is out of the way, we've gotta scale that fucking canyon." said the sergeant as he shook off the snow on his armor.

"Me climb? To hell with that Sergeant, you're piggybacking me up," said John, his face dead serious. Montgomery looked at him, a worried expression on his face, before both of them started chuckling. "Alright, let's get this the hell over with," said John as he headed back to the door. The sergeant turned the lights to the outpost off as they exited the building, and then they were climbing again up a large metal staircase that was built into the cliff side.

They reached the top after fighting through several more of the unsuspecting guards, leaving no evidence of their struggle by salvaging their weapons and ammo, then dumping their corpses into the abyssal canyon. When they finished with the insurgents, "On you Cap," said the sergeant quietly, and the pair stacked up once again.

John opened the door and slid inside, shortly followed by Ben. The two of them immediately began to scan their surroundings when they entered. They found themselves in a small, reinforced structure that looked as if it had been built directly into the mountain. Luckily, no guards were present as they held up their weapons and shuffled their way through the building. But, as they continued, the walls of the building disappeared, making way for the rocky texture of a cave in their place. At the end of the small tunnel, the building opened up into a cavernous room that was poorly lit, aside from a large hole blasted into the center of the ceiling. The captain found himself amazed that the attack hadn't collapsed the whole cavern.

As they stared across the room from their higher perch, the two spotted three guards within eyesight. John signaled to get low, and they both began heading down the stairs. They quietly made their way down a short metal staircase, being careful not to make too much noise as they descended. When they finally reached the bottom, the duo avoided the dim lighting from the gaping rock wound above and skirted around in the shadows. As they passed the skylight, they both noticed one of their own laying on the ground, his parachute still attached, and his body full of holes. Ben donned a sour look, then grabbed the fallen soldier's tags, tucking them into a pouch before they moved on.

As they neared the staircase in the center of the room, the captain gave the signal to halt, and Montgomery stopped. The pair pushed themselves against the wall using set of stacked crates to keep them hidden from the patrol. It wasn't long before they heard footsteps nearing them. Montgomery pulled his knife out again and prepared to spring, just as John pulled free his silenced pistol.

When finally the red guard crossed the crates, Montgomery jumped up and grabbed the man, immediately slamming the knife into the man's throat and dragging him down behind cover with them. After again salvaging anything they could find from the body, the pair peeked between the boxes and saw that another soldier awaited them at the top of the stairs, his vision looking off to the side where their fallen ally laid. Luckily, he hadn't noticed the assassination that had just taken place.

"No way we can get past without him seeing us," whispered Sergeant Montgomery.

"We'll have to take him out from here," said the gunman as he drew up his pistol and aimed between the crates. Placing the sight directly in the middle of the figure's chest, he checked his breathing, then squeezed the trigger and fired a silenced round directly into the invader's center mass, then did it again, and again. The man fell over and slid down the stairs with a rather loud thud.

In a matter of seconds, both of the Americans began to hear the rapid clip of Mandarin Chinese chatter coming from further up the staircase. Surprisingly, he was able to understand every word, warning him that they had seen the attack. "Shit!" said John as he slapped his pistol back to his side and pulled up his automatic weapon. "So much for stealth," he said as he began to climb the stairs.

The two climbed until they were just below the peak of the staircase, allowing the enemy soldiers to run directly into their fire as they arrived on the scene. A few fell over the safety railing down to the cavern floor below, while two fell flat on the stairs, their weapons clattering to the floor.

"Move!" yelled John, and the two immediately began to sprint up the stairs and dove behind the cover of sandbags as enemy fire rained down on their heads. Ben tapped the captain's shoulders, and John looked over at the man, seeing him holding a stolen grenade from one of the corpses they had just created. Smirking, the gunman nodded, then reached up with his automatic weapon and squeezed the trigger again, unleashing a hellish storm of bullets towards the enemy location. As soon as his superior provided cover, the sergeant pulled the pin on the explosive and tossed it over the sandbags. John immediately released the trigger, and both of the men covered their ears as an explosion decimated enemy troops, killing some, and blowing their cover to pieces. In seconds, the pair were on their feet again and rushing in to deal the finishing blow.

A minute later, the captain and gunnery sergeant looked over the remains of their opposition. Ben wiped sweat from his head as he looked at the carnage. "You think they alerted the others?" he asked uneasily.

John recovered his breath and stood straight again, stretching out his muscles underneath the combat armor. "Unlikely. These walls are mostly iron and lead," he said, waving his hand at the ceiling around them. "This place is essentially a dead zone for RF communication devices."

Montgomery scratched his head as he stared at his superior. "You're pretty smart, you know that?" he asked, before turning to look at the door leading to the exit.

"That's what my dad tells me…" John groaned as he grabbed his weapon and readied it again by slapping a fresh magazine into the bottom. "Even if they didn't get a distress signal out, there's no telling if anyone on the other side of the door heard the gunfire or explosion. So be prepared regardless," ordered the captain as he led the way towards the far door.

Together, they trekked into another burrowed building-like structure, up a set of stairs, and through what looked like a boiler room for the facility, all of them empty of life. This came as a huge relief to the two, who figured that nobody had heard their cave battle. Finally, they reached another door that led back outside of the internal mountainous structure. "Slow and steady," said Ben in a low tone as they opened the door and looked outside for the first time in what felt like hours.

The air was cooler now, and the sky darker. If this wasn't Alaska, John would have sworn that they had actually spent hours in the cave bunker. But he gasped in shock as he saw the massive canyon in front of him. Stepping forward, his eyes locked onto a giant pipeline that had run through the mountain they were currently on, over to Mount Denali where it seemed to plug right into the side. Also on the opposing mountain was a facility constructed directly next to the pipeline itself.

Looking off to their left, he saw another walkway, platform included, built further along until it led across to an even larger building across the canyon. "Great...another bridge," complained the sergeant.

"We'll get to that once we clear the loner," said the captain as he pointed across the pipeline to the building right next to it.

"You want us to cross the pipeline?" asked Ben incredulously. When he saw the no-nonsense look on his superior's face, he groaned. "And I thought I had a death wish."

"Pipe down Benjie. We've got work to do," said John as he crouched down and began making his way towards the massive oil pipe.

The sergeant glared at him. "Pipe down...smartass captain," he grumbled as he followed. Together, they carefully made their way over the smooth surface of the pipe. To their relief, whoever was inside the facility didn't feel the need to look out the window, as they made it across without incident. Which made it all the more easy to open the door and gun down the invaders. With them down, they were free to examine the terminal they found in the back room. Benjie groaned as he looked at the briefcase computer and saw that everything was written in Chinese. "Damn. We'll have to get this to base to get it translated."

"Not exactly…" said John as he stared at the screen. He'd never had a day of training in foreign languages in his life. Which made it all the more confusing that he could look at the screen and read everything written on it as if it were typed out in English. "It looks like eastern cliffside's lack of defense was already known about by some of the invaders. They were writing reports that the areas we just cleared need to be more heavily guarded."

"Well, then it's a good thing we got in before they decided to do something about it," said the sergeant, his brows furrowing at the thoughts of what they would have run into if they had arrived later. Suddenly, he dropped his crossed arms and looked at the captain incredulously. "Wait, you can read Chinese?"

"Apparently," said John as he documented the information on his pipboy. Finishing up, he retreated to the menu again before raising his weapon. "Now that this place is out of the way, let's go see about the other facility we saw."

OoOoO

Minutes later, the pair were across the bridge and planting their proverbial boots up the opposition's backsides. As soon as they hit solid ground again, they found one of the red invaders stumbling out of the bathroom, holding another AR93 in one hand while pulling his pants up with the other. Montgomery immediately raised his own rifle and ended the man.

John ran over and salvaged the man's ammo, then tucked it away for later. As they heard the stomping of incoming soldiers, the pair of them took up defensive positions. Montgomery ducked behind the shielded metal crate that was waiting for a forklift to take it inside, while John pulled the pin on a grenade he snatched from another unfortunate soul, then tossed it to the underside of the stairs which were now rattling with Chinese feet.

As the first two soldiers came down the stairway, the grenade detonated, sending them both soaring off the edge of the mountain and into oblivion. The next few that followed were more wary, choosing their steps and listening for any unusual sounds before turning the corner and firing at the pair. John ducked behind the side of the building as rounds exploded on the wall next to him.

As the four soldiers began to move in on John's position, Montgomery took advantage of the flanking position they had set up. Popping out of his hiding place, he unleashed hell with his automatic weapon, scoring two of the of the invaders; one in the legs, making him drop to the ground in a fit of pain, and the other center mass, ending him for good.

The two remaining insurgents turned and began to fire on Montgomery's position, only to have John jump out and finish them off. Once the fighting had ended, the two soldiers came out of cover and began to head for the stairs when a loud shot rang out across the canyon. Both of the Americans jumped for cover again, ducking their heads in case they were fired on again. However, as John looked to his right, he saw that the soldier with the leg injuries now had a clean hole through the center of his head. Neither of the two of them put it there, so either the sniper was on their side, or accidentally just committed friendly fire.

"You alright Cap?" asked Benjie from his own bunkered position.

"Yeah…" said John as he continued to stare at the dead man. He looked down and saw that the man now had a pistol in his hand. After receiving the wounds to his legs, his automatic weapon had been flung out of his reach. So he must have grabbed his pistol after they were headed for the stairs. "I don't think that sniper shot was meant for us," said John through their comm unit.

" _How'd ya figure that?"_ asked the sergeant.

"Remember the guy you shot in the legs?" he asked, keeping his head low just in case.

" _Well, yeah. It was less than five minutes ago,"_ responded the sergeant.

"He's dead now with a hole through his head. He also had his pistol drawn. I think he was trying to get us in the back before he was taken out." said John as he slowly stood up from his position. Spying the dead man once more, he triangulated the position from which the shot came, and looked in that direction, squinting his eyes to try and see if he spotted anything. But all he could see was endless mountains in the distance. If indeed someone had shot from there, then they were one hell of a sniper.

OoOoO

After the shot had been fired, she kept her scope focused on the newcomers. One, she already knew about. He was a regular face, one she had grown so used to that his gruff attitude and strange accent even bored her. The other, however, was new. She liked new. Unfortunately, she didn't get a very good look before she had to put down the grounded man who threatened to kill her future friend. They had both run into cover, thinking that the shot was meant for them.

She pouted as she sat and watched them hide behind cover. But, right when she was about to give up and pack her stuff away, he stood up again, this time staring directly at her. It was almost like he could see her through the scope. "Oooohhh...he's cute," she said, giggling to herself.


	17. Mountainside Destruction

OoO( 17 )OoO

Leaving the mysterious sniper situation where it lay, they moved up the stairs and found that the Chinese had made many modifications to the outside of the building they intended to infiltrate. It was immediately below the cannons, so any hope they had of getting to the guns lay through those heavily guarded doors. "Son of a..." said John as he stared at the concrete bunkers that now stared him in the face.

"Looks like they turned this place into the artillery depot. Probably to supply the AA guns up above," said the sergeant while the gunman stared through his binoculars.

"It looks like they have automatic turrets in there as well. That actually gives me an idea..." said John as he crouched down and started typing away at his pipboy.

The sergeant eyed him curiously. "Don't suppose you have some kind of satellite laser targeting system on that thing?" he asked hopefully. John just looked up at him with a wry smile.

"Sure do. And if I ever want to sheer off half this mountain, I'll be sure to use it," said the captain jokingly.

"So, what's the plan then?" asked the sergeant.

"Well, I..." said John, but he was immediately cut off by the sound of gunfire. Both of the Americans grabbed their assault weapons and prepared for the ensuing barrage of bullets, which never came. Peeking around the corner, shock registered on both of their faces as they saw the automatic turrets turn and start firing on the troopers that had been stationed in the bunkers.

He stared stupidly as the invaders inside the concrete fortresses who weren't immediately gunned down ran to get out of the death traps. "Guess this is as good a time as any," said the younger man as he grabbed his weapon again and began moving towards the two bunkers. Benjie followed, both of them picking off what the turrets hadn't managed to finish. Sergeant Montgomery ran up the side of one of the bunkers but immediately had to backpedal as a stream of flames nearly blanketed him. "Fuck!" he shouted as the heat washed over him.

John had snuck around the side of the other bunker and finished both the remaining troops and the turret by arming a grenade and tossing it into the open firing port for the concrete dwelling. When the smoke cleared, he entered the bunker to make sure everyone was out of commission. As he looked through the gun slot, he saw Benjie ducking behind a small barrier as flames tickled him from every side. Acting fast, the captain immediately drew his pistol and fired at the flamer wielder.

The guard knew that he had been shot at, but what he hadn't realized is that one of the bullets had pierced the tank on his back. He raised the nozzle to try and scorch the hidden sergeant once more, but almost as soon as he pulled the trigger, he knew something was wrong. The fire on the end of his nozzle grew in size, then flew like lightning behind him where it impacted the opening in his tank. The napalm ignited inside the large tank, resulting in an explosion that sent pieces of the man scattering across the mountainside.

Ben, feeling the relief from the heat, peeked out of his cover and saw the gory display, then shook his head. "Was that you Captain?" he asked in a loud voice.

John stepped out of the bunker and ran to the sergeant's position. "Yeah, sorta. You alright?" he asked as he packed away his pistol and checked the man to make sure he hadn't been severely burned.

"Christ you know how to kill someone," said the sergeant as he got back to his feet with the assistance of the officer. John just chuckled as Ben pulled out a stimpak and shot it into his arm. "I'll be fine. Let's just get inside so this wind stops tearing what's left my skin off," he said as they walked together into the front door of the building.

When they opened the door, they found two more Red soldiers with weapons aimed directly at them. One of the two, probably the higher ranked, began to shout at them in Mandarin.

John just sighed. "Should have known," he said, coiling himself to strike out as the higher ranking of the two barked at them to get on the ground. He could slowly feel Montgomery doing the same thing next to him. They were ready to spring on the pair like a couple of lions, but the sound of a muffled shot from a silenced weapon startled them both. Suddenly, the loud soldier had fallen over, followed by another shot that brought down the second one.

Both John and Benjie stared in shock as the invading soldier that had done the shooting walked over to the radio in the room and began speaking in fluent English with little accent. "Polar Bear, this is Hummingbird. Grey Fox has entered the compound and has made contact. Communications have been cut and infiltration has begun."

 _"Ten-four Hummingbird. You know your objective from here. Polar Bear out."_ said the voice over the radio as the soldier turned to the pair. Pulling off the hat, the red soldier revealed themselves to be a rather short woman with silky, shoulder-length black hair, angular eyes that were dark brown, and light, pale skin. Despite her small stature, John could see through the tight armor she wore that she was mostly lean, coiled muscle underneath. She certainly looked like someone he didn't want to tangle with.

"Alright red, where did you send that transmission to?" asked Sergeant Montgomery as he raised his weapon, aiming at her.

She eyed him and rolled her eyes. "Country boys..." she said, sighing in exasperation. "Point the gun somewhere else Sergeant. That was to General Chase. He told me before sneaking me in here to shut down the communications arrays to the rest of the facilities once you arrived."

"So even if we go in guns blazing, they wouldn't be able to warn anyone else that we're going after the cannons?" asked John, earning him a nod and a smile from the woman.

"Very good. At least someone here gets it," she said, giving a slow, mocking clap.

"And you are?" asked John, eying her curiously.

"Second Lieutenant Yae Goto," she said, bowing to him.

John immediately cocked an eyebrow. "Japanese?" he asked, getting another playful smile from the woman.

"Very observant. And yes. I'm a linguist and infiltration specialist," she said, eying Benjie with a daring look.

Montgomery just shook his head. "This would be a lot easier if we just did this alone," he said to the captain.

"Nonsense. You've gotta culture yourself at some point Sergeant. Might as well be now. Besides, so far you and I have done a wonderful job of alerting an entire building of our presence. We could use someone with a little more finesse," said John as he walked up to her and held out his hand.

She took it and shook. "Good to meet you, Captain," she said, politely bowing her head again. "Now, if introductions are through, I say we go ahead and get these guns out of the way so our planes can finally get here and get us back up."

John nodded. "Let's get to it."

"Our first objective should be to clear out this building. The guns are a short distance away on top of another facility further down, but we can't leave any remaining insurgents behind us," she said as she strode quickly towards a door at the far side of the room. "This door leads to the top floor of the munitions plant. It's mainly used for maintenance, but as you can imagine, most of the soldiers didn't come here to fix anything."

"So it will be relatively clean," asked Benjie, getting a nod from the Asian woman. "Good. The cleaner the better. I don't like taking out non-combatants."

The small woman looked shocked for a moment. "Why Sergeant! You do have a heart!" she said as if in complete awe. He gave her the middle finger, making which only resulted in her laughing.

"Alright, so we'll start up here. If you can help it, just take the engineers that are here as prisoners. If they draw a gun on you, light them up," he ordered as he made for the door. "Yae, you do what you do best. Montgomery and I will pretty much be the battering ram, so try to keep our backs covered," he finished. She nodded, tapping on her own pipboy before vanishing.

Sergeant Montgomery took a step back. "Fuckin' hell...how did she do that?" he asked in surprise.

"I'm pretty sure if she told you, she'd have to kill you," said John in mock seriousness as he accessed the door. The large metal portal clattered loudly as it opened, alerting anyone nearby in the foundry. To his immediate surprise, three men in PRC red uniforms stared at them in shock from the other side of the door. Given that none wore strictly military uniforms, it was likely that they were engineers or laborers who loaded the artillery into the base.

"Oh shit..." said John as he crouched, then immediately dove for the nearest engineer. The man was too terrified to move in the first place, making him an easy target when the armored officer dove at him. They both hit the ground with John on top, resulting in the man blacking out from the crushing force.

Montgomery looked at the other two men who stood there and stared at them. Suddenly, one of them bolted for the stairs while the other one pulled up a heavy wrench and yelled something at the sergeant in Chinese. "Shit, one's gettin' away!" he yelled as he dodged a swing from the heavy object. Annoyed at the attempted assault, the American grabbed the wrench mid-swing and blasted the Chinese engineer with a teeth-rattling right hook. The tech hit the walkway like a rock, completely blown away by the gauntleted attack. Benjamin cracked his knuckles, then started to run for the tech that had escaped. But he stopped as he saw the man frozen in place.

As her cloaking faded, Yae now stood on her hands on the railing of the walkway, with her legs locked around the runner's neck. The man struggled against the vice-like scissor lock, but his lack of oxygen made him too weak to fight. Eventually, he slid to the ground, his face red and his consciousness leaving him. Benjamin walked up, then eyed the woman as she flipped onto her feet from the railing.

"Impressed yet?" she asked with a cheeky smirk.

"Maybe a little..." said the sergeant, getting a chuckle out of her. "Alright, so let's drag these ones into the closets and lock them so they won't be bugging us anymore," he said as he hooked his armored arms under the passed out man's arms, then began dragging him away. Both Yae and John followed suit, eventually putting the three men into a bathroom before John locked the door until later.

Whatever preconceptions they had about clearing the munitions plant quietly quickly went to hell fast. On the way down the stairs, John took a round to the shoulder from another cloaked figure. While the armor held, it forced him over the edge of the walkway and sent him slamming down into the floor below. The perpetrator, who was all the way across the factory on a floor slightly higher than them, went to reload his low yield sniper as he smiled at the target he had just taken down.

His smile faded quickly as he felt the front side of his stealth armor growing wet. Looking down, he saw an unreal amount of blood pouring down the front of his suit. Yae walked away from him, vanishing again as she sheathed the curved tanto behind her back, the snick of the blade sliding home followed shortly by the sniper's head rolling off. She hopped over the railing quickly and stretched her limber form out, reaching down and grasping onto the railing below as two more soldiers ran down the catwalks to get to the fallen soldier.

She let go of her previous perch, allowing gravity to swing her body like a pendulum, and giving her perfect momentum to attack with her legs. She lashed out with one booted foot, connecting with the neck of one man and sending him, along with his crushed windpipe, soaring over the railing and straight to the floor from a few stories up. The other soldier, completely in shock at his comrade randomly flying over the railing, didn't react fast enough to stop the small woman from locking her legs around his neck and bodily lifting him off the platform. The man reached up and grasped at her armor, her hips, her breasts, anything he could get a hold on. But her armor was specially made for close combat and lacked the same crude edges that conventional armor had to deflect bullets and knives.

It wasn't long before a cracking was heard, and the man's body hung like a rag doll from her vice-like grip. Letting him go, she pulled her pistol clean of its belt and started to dash towards the stairs leading lower.

In the large munitions plant, catwalks ran around the entire structure, all the way down to the floor in square formations, with staircases leading from floor to floor. In the middle of the large ceiling, multiple chains and hooks had been lowered to the floor to allow the cannons above to restock their ammunition through a bay door in the center.

As John fell from the walkway, he reached out for anything that might help him break his fall. Unfortunately, the only thing he managed to grab was one of the thick chains hanging from the ceiling, which was slack and fell just as fast as him. When he hit the ground, he nearly blacked out from the impact, and the combined weight of himself and his armor slamming into the ground.

OoOoO

Specialist Olin gasped in horror and Jericho turned away as they saw the crushing fall. Immediately the Outcast scribe began reading his vitals as the new data flew across the screen in front of her. "Shit shit shit!" she shouted as she looked up at his sleeping figure in the pod and noticed blood start to drip from his nose.

"The fuck? You can actually get hurt in that thing?" asked Jericho as he stepped away from it, afraid it might end up hurting him too.

"In order to train you, it hooks directly into your cerebral patterns to make the simulation as lifelike as possible. So whatever happens in there, your brain thinks actually happens," said Olin as she began to administer small amounts of medication to him.

Jericho just stared at her. "The hell does that mean?"

She looked up at him, then sighed and rubbed her head. "I never thought I'd miss his conversation..." she said, eyeing John. "If you die in the game, you die for real," she snapped as she looked back down at her display screen.

Jericho just shook his head and looked at the prone form on the screen. "Fuck that shit..." he said as he lit another cigarette. "Not worth some damn trinkets."

"I see he was a failure anyway," came the smug voice of Defender Sibley as he walked back into the room. "Knew he wasn't up to it."

"Don't need your mouth right now Sibley!" said Olin as she stabilized the gunman. On the screen, John placed his hands on the ground and began picking himself up. The defender snorted, and Olin sighed in relief. "Good god...I'm too young for this."

"He probably is too," said McGraw as he leaned forward onto the chair he had brought into the room. His hands were tapping the back of the chair, showing his apprehension at almost having lost the young man. "Let's hope we didn't just sentence him to death."

Jericho looked over at the Protector curiously. "Can't you just pull him out before he dies?"

Olin shook her head. "He can only come out when the simulation ends. To pull him out early would hemorrhage his brain," she said, getting another look from Jericho. She just rubbed her eyes in frustration. "His brain would burst open and fill his head with blood."

"Fucking hell. What's wrong with you people?" he asked, letting out a cloud of smoke from his lungs.

McGraw cleared his throat. "We made him aware of the dangers. He chose to go in. We can only hope that he can survive the rest of this campaign."

OoOoO

John slowly got back to his feet as gunfire rattled around him. He coughed, watching as blood dripped onto the ground from his nose, his vision still slightly blurry as he tried to get his bearings. He saw that he was now behind a stack of barrels and that Sergeant Montgomery was next to him, firing at the opposition.

When he finally stood again, he pulled his assault rifle up and growled. "That's it you sons of bitches!" he shouted before bolting out from behind the cover.

"What the hell are you doing!?" asked the incredulous sergeant, but the gunman ignored the man as a red mist set in his eyes.

He slid behind a crate loaded with ammunition, aiming his weapon high. Halfway through their infiltration of the facility, the invaders had been sending a large shipment of the artillery in an armored box up to the surface where they could load it into the guns. It now hung by several chains just short of the bay door in the roof. John fired at the cranks that were holding the chains in place. They began sparking wildly before they began falling apart.

Benjamin moved forward, aiming and taking down another soldier before looking at his partner. "The hell is he...?" he started, but was cut off by a loud cracking of equipment. Looking up, he also saw the large container that began to tilt perilously. "Holy shit!" he shouted as he ducked back behind his cover, which currently was a large knocked-over shelf. He pulled free a grenade from his belt, then yanked the pin free, and hurled it into the same mechanical cranks that John had just filled full of holes.

The small device detonated, tearing the equipment to shreds. The chains above the remainder of the factory soldiers suddenly went slack, allowing gravity to pull them down at breakneck speed. Yae dove off the catwalk above and grabbed one of the chains, her weight counterbalancing one of the corners and tipping the entire thing on its head. As the box flipped midair, the heavy shells inside rained down on the remaining soldiers, slamming into them and shattering bones, causing concussions, and outright killing those who were unlucky enough to be directly underneath the box when it came down.

John didn't waste any opportunity. He got to his feet and immediately ran over to the downed soldiers, taking out any who were still alive after the hellish metal rain. The second lieutenant approached the pair, as calm as if she had just come from a picnic, while Montgomery was panting heavily and John was cleaning the blood that had caked on his skin.

"Well, don't you look as pretty as a china doll," said Benjie sarcastically as she approached unscathed. The lieutenant eyed him dangerously, making him realize what he said "I...you know what the hell I mean!" he snapped, looking at the ground.

John chuckled, despite the pain in his head right now. "Nice Benjie. Call the only Japanese person for miles a china doll," he said, his voice holding nothing but amusement.

"I'm not racist..." growled the sergeant, making even the woman laugh.

"I know Benjamin. I forgive you," she said, then turned to John, concern covering her face. "Are you alright Fox? You took a nasty spill back there," she asked, concern clearly present in her voice.

He looked up at her curiously, just remembering his supposed codename for the sim. Were it not for that reminder, he'd have forgotten that everything around him wasn't actually real. "Yeah...I'm fine," he said, cleaning his face of his own blood. "We should get going, we still have to clear out topside," he said, the sound of the guns above pounding against the very ground around them with each fired shell reminding them again what their objective was.

"There should be access to the top from the maintenance level. Do we still have the charges?" asked the lieutenant. Montgomery pulled the pack off his back and tossed it to her.

"Three blocks of C4, ready to light these bastards up like a Christmas tree," said the sergeant with a smile.

"Good, now we just have to get to the guns," said John as he headed for the stairs. "Make sure you're stocked on ammo. They aren't just going to let us stroll up and strap these on."

When the group had properly prepared, they left the access hatch that led to the clifftop. The dull thuds that had marked the cannons firing before, were now loud klaxons that pounded on the eardrums. "Yae, scout ahead and see what's waiting for us. If need be, we can be a distraction while you disarm anymore automated weapons that they might have in the area."

The woman nodded and reached for her pipboy when Ben put his hand on her shoulder. "Be careful."

She genuinely smiled at him. "Don't worry Benjie, I'll do my best," she said, then vanished in front of both of them.

John cocked an eyebrow at the sergeant, who just waved him off. "Don't look at me like that," he said as he walked past his superior.

"What? I didn't say anything!" said the gunman as he followed the sergeant.

After about twenty minutes, the woman had come back to the enclosed doorway and reported. "We've got a hell of a fight ahead of us. There're about twenty soldiers assigned to each gun, for reloading and maintenance, and all of them are armed to the teeth. Some with heavy weapons, but most of them with automatics."

"What kind of heavy weapons?" asked Benjie, his skin crawling.

Yae looked up at him. "Flamethrowers, a missile launcher, and one had a pretty nasty looking sword that I've never seen before," she said, counting each of them off on her fingers. Ben shivered at the mention of flamethrowers. "Something wrong?"

He just shook his head. "I'm fine. Just had a close call with a flamer earlier. I'll be taking them out long range from now on," he said, reloading the automatic weapon he held in his hands.

She turned back to John. "Alright, so we're directly below the middle cannon. I'd suggest that we start on one side and move down the line. Unfortunately, while I was able to disable communications within the factory and other facilities here, the ones up here have a separate radio band that I didn't have access to."

"Oh...great. So as soon as one group knows we're here, they all do," said John, sighing as the little Asian woman nodded to him. "Good...was hoping this wouldn't be too easy," he said sarcastically.

Yae just chuckled and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry sir, if anyone can get it done, it'll be the guy who can take a fall like you did," she said cheerfully.

"I'm not so sure..." said the sergeant. Both officers looked directly at him. "I mean, if victory is leaving a face imprint in a metal floor, then yeah," he said with a big smile, getting a laugh from Yae, and a friendly glare from John.

"Very funny Sergeant," said the gunman. "Alright, let's go. The sooner we take these things offline, the sooner we'll be able to sit down for a minute," he said as he walked towards the cliff edge that led to the north. Yae was about to go stealth again when John stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to take the C4. Stealth out there, and plant them. The sergeant and I will be the distractions."

Her eyes widened at the order. "I...are you sure? That's a lot of troops to just face tank like that," she said, using a term that he'd never heard, but could figure out what it meant.

"Look, me and sourpuss over here, we're hammers. We hit nails, and we've already proven that we're not great at staying hidden. So why not use the element of surprise and just kick them in the pants, allowing you to plant the bombs?" he asked with a shrug.

"What's the escape plan?" she asked, looking between the two.

Montgomery just smiled. "Over the cliff."

OoOoO

Once Yae had signaled to John that she was in place, the captain just grabbed a pair of egg-shaped grenades off his belt, pulled the pins, but held the safety spoons, then dashed forward. He tossed one into a bunker, and the other right next to one of the soldiers who had charged towards him when he broke cover. The trooper that was wielding a flamethrower just noticed the grenade as it hit the ground next to him. It detonated and sent him soaring over the edge of the cliff, his weapon thudding heavily into the snow.

The inside of the bunker was cleared from the second blast, destroying the turret and killing two of the three soldiers within with shrapnel instantly. The third soldier stumbled out just in time for John to put a few rounds into his chest cavity before he could do anything.

As more soldiers flooded over the walkways from the other two guns, Sergeant Montgomery smiled as he looked down at the flamer who's previous owner had taken a flight over the edge. "Time for some payback!" he shouted as he hefted the heavy weapon.

A group of five more enemy invaders stomped over the bridge towards the attacked bunker, but as they got in reach, the smiling sergeant appeared from beside it and filled the air in front of him with a long stream of fire. The napalm fluid caught their suits and clung like Velcro, eating through their winterized suits and sending them screaming and running into the windy afternoon.

On the other side of the bunker, John had reached a standoff with the red invaders from the south. They were currently making sure he didn't peak his head up for any shots back at them. He knew that if he didn't check quickly, he was likely going to receive the same welcome that he gave the original occupants of the bunker. Thinking quickly, he ducked out the back door of the concrete structure and put his back flat against the barrier. His ears picked up a clinking sound from inside, shortly followed by teeth rattling explosion.

Ben elbowed his arm with a giant grin. "Having trouble Cap?"

"If you're talking, you aren't working Sergeant," said John as he pulled another grenade off his belt and hook tossed it overhead, where it landed just on the other side of the barrier that the reds were taking cover. John sprinted out towards their position as they ducked for the grenade. But the grenade didn't go off as they thought. When they peaked up again, they were looking down the barrel of an AR93 briefly, before the barrel roared and took their lives.

John quickly grabbed the grenade off the ground and clipped it to his belt again, before pulling out a long belt filled with miniature mines. He pulled the pin on the master mine, then pushed down the button, activating them. With Benjie's help, he laid the belt out and covered it with a light layer of snow before pulling the last safety. Just as they stood, more soldiers began to run through the pass. Jumped behind cover to escape the automatic fire, then drove them back a few steps with blind fire from behind their barricades.

When the soldiers tried to take advantage of the Americans inability to properly return fire, they dashed down the small ridge, one of them stepped on the mine belt. The result was a massive explosion of fire and snow that blew both of the Americans out from behind their respective barricades from the force. John got up with a groan, while Sergeant Montgomery dusted the snow off himself.

It didn't take long before the two had to retreat to the cliff edge, using another concrete barricade as their shelter while more and more soldiers piled in from the other guns. Seconds turned to minutes as they hid from bullets that whizzed past their ears like a swarm of angry hornets. "Think we made them angry?" asked Benjie loudly over the gunfire.

John looked over at him and just chuckled. "You have a way of pissing people off Benjie!" shouted John as he looked at his pipboy. "Shit...pretty soon they're going to just chip through this thing..."

"Or they'll..." started the sergeant, but both of them were rocked as a missile struck the barricade, cracking it in half and sending their ears ringing and heads spinning. "...that...that's what I was gonna say..." was all that the Boston man let out before he slumped forward into the snow, a small trickle of blood running down from his mouth.

John grabbed him and pulled him up closer to the back of the barrier. "Lieutenant, if there's ever a time, it would be now!" shouted John over the pipboy as he spied the rocket culprit reloading the large tubed weapon. Reaching down, he began to gently slap the sergeant awake again.

 _"Just finished! Back door now!"_ she yelled over the radio.

"Sergeant! Wake up! Time to go!" shouted John as he gently shook the man. Sergeant Montgomery opened his eyes and grabbed his head.

"Fuckin' hell! Who the fuck ran over me?" he groaned as he got to his hands and knees.

"Sergeant, attention!" shouted John. The man immediately looked at him, a look of surprise on his face. "Time to go, now!" he shouted, getting a nod from the man. They both got to their feet and sprinted towards the cliff edge as the artillery guns fired again, and the familiar sound of a rocket leaving its tube behind them.

Bullets pinged off the rocks around them as the two raced for freedom. More than thirty of the remaining soldiers had gathered to protect the weapons, all of them firing an insane number of rounds at the two. John felt more than one bullet impact his armored back, and one of them even grazed his hip, where the armor was less protected. Though it felt like an eternity, in a matter of seconds, the pair made it to the edge and dove off the cliff and into the white abyss.

It was less than five seconds later that the C4 charges on the guns detonated. The explosion sent John tumbling through the air and gave him a pain in his head so bad that he swore his teeth had fallen out. But his biggest concern was the fact that he was now spinning rapidly through the air. If he pulled his cord now, the chute would likely tangle, and possibly wrap around his neck and strangle him. He knew he had to level out before he fell.

OoOoO

Specialist Olin had one hand covering her mouth as she watched the screen, unconsciously biting her finger as she watched. She didn't even realize that she was tasting blood as she saw the young man spinning rapidly. "If he doesn't level out, he's either going to black out and hit the ground, or hang himself," she said worriedly.

Even Jericho was so fascinated by the scene that he hadn't puffed on his Square at all in the last two minutes. "Come on kid..." he said as he watched on. Protector McGraw had the lower half of his face hidden behind his interlaced hands, and Sibley with his two cronies just watched in silence from the back.

OoOoO

John had spun for almost a full minute, his stomach clenching and making him want to dry heave. But he bit the feeling back and focused on the training he got from...wherever. "One hand..." he said as he lifted one arm and cupped his hand. His spin started to slow as the air resistance started to fight his rapid spinning. Finally, he stopped, and his body started to turn in the opposite direction. Raising his other hand, he did the same, again stopping the spin.

Very slowly, he felt his nausea go down as he stared down at the mountainous ground approaching him at high speeds. He knew he only had a small amount of time before he would be able to save himself. Reaching up slowly, he slid his fingers under his pauldron and found the emergency switch for his armor, then pulled it. The chute built into the back of his armor ejected and expanded, catching the air resistance and nearly giving him whiplash. Despite the pain he was in, he just shook his head, rubbed his sore neck, then grabbed the leads to guide himself to safety. "I'm gonna kick your ass when I get out of here Specialist!" he shouted into the wind.

OoOoO

Back in the simulation room, Olin cheered audibly, releasing a long-held breath as she watched the wanderer guide his parachute to safety, with the AA Artillery cannons crashing down the mountain behind him in a cloud of rock, snow, and fire.

Jericho just smirked and chuckled as he tossed his long burned out cigarette and lit another one. "Kid's got some fucking cojones on him to pull a stunt like that," he said, inhaling and releasing a cloud of the smoke into the room. "This is the best damn holovid I've ever seen!"

Even McGraw's stone-like demeanor melted away with a small smile. "Well, he's passed the first trial. Only one more to go before we can finally pull him out of there and get into that armory."

In the back of the room, Defender Sibley said nothing, his face completely neutral as he watched the others have a small celebration at the victory of the savage. He didn't like how this looked. Not at all.


	18. Fraternization

OoO( 18 )OoO

When the dust settled from the mountaintop, John met up with both Gunnery Sergeant Montgomery and Second Lieutenant Goto out in the middle of the mountain range. They lit a smoke grenade and tossed it into the snow, allowing a large billowing cloud of green smoke to rise into the air.

In a matter of minutes, a helicopter swooped in and landed near them, allowing them to board before taking off again at high speeds through the windy canyon. The officer across from John had dark bronze skin and a thick pair of glasses on his face, as well as the typical winterized US armor that he and Benjamin currently wore.

The man greeted both the sergeant, then the lieutenant before he looked over at John. "So, Grey Fox huh? I've heard a lot about you."

John cocked an eyebrow at the man. "I see I'm not doing my job well enough then," he said smartly, causing the man to chuckle.

"No worries sir. I'm intelligence to the core. I probably know more about you than you do," said the man as he smiled at John.

The gunman eyed him curiously. "Like how this is all a simulation, and that I was born over two hundred years from now in an underground vault?" he asked, testing the waters. Both Yae and Sergeant Montgomery looked at him in shock.

"The hell are you on sir?" asked Benjamin as he stared at his superior.

The other man, however, never broke a sweat. "Sure! And I also happen to know that you slay dragons and your voice can shake the earth and clear the skies," said the man.

John just chuckled at him. "That'd certainly make my job a lot easier," remarked the captain as he leaned back, his question answered.

The man's charming smile never faded as he introduced himself. "The name is Lieutenant Thomas Morgan. I'm currently stationed on the front lines with General Chase at the outskirts of the Chinese main headquarters. We've basically been having a staring contest with General Jingwei from across his pulse field for months now."

"So the mission to take out the guns...?" asked the sergeant curiously.

"That was our first strike," said Morgan with a smile. "That's us telling the Chinese that it's go time, and they're about to find themselves swimming home. We managed to take out a good portion of their fleet about the same time that the guns went down with amphibious units and a lot of fireworks. The rest retreated back past the Bering Strait, so Jingwei's on his own. Unfortunately, because of the constant fire from those guns, we haven't had air support for a while. All we've got is this flying canoe and a medivac chopper in case of emergencies."

John scratched his chin, noticing that he had a bit of scruff on it, more than he was used to. "So, we're going to sit here for a week waiting for an airstrike?" he asked, the thought of being in the frozen wasteland for another week wasn't something he liked the sound of.

But the lieutenant just smiled. "No, we were waiting for you," he said as he pushed his glasses further up onto his nose. When he got a glance from John that screamed for more information, he just shook his head. "I'll let General Chase tell you the rest. I've already said too much as it is," said the man as he ran a hand through his fade haircut.

"If you say so," said John, who looked out over the white landscape as it whizzed by them. It took about another half hour for the chopper to reach the intended landing zone, which was a small pad placed on the rough Alaskan ground. As the bird landed, John jumped out one of the sides and looked around their current location. There were US military tents dotting the snow-covered banks. And from the looks of it, about fifty people in uniform going on about their business.

Morgan stepped up beside him with Montgomery and Goto bringing up the rear. "Beautiful isn't it?" asked the male lieutenant. John just nodded, noting the icy mountains around them.

"If we haven't had air support for a while, how did you all get here?" he asked curiously as he eyed the lieutenant.

"We were still able to get troops in on the ground and over the water. However, hauling vehicles good enough to trek through the Alaskan terrain was a big pain in the ass. That's why we only have what's in this camp," responded the lieutenant as he led the trio towards the inner circle of tents.

John walked with the officer, looking from one person to another as they traveled. Some stopped to salute him, from the hard-working lance corporal, to even full-bird colonels. He saluted back respectfully but eventually stopped when a chief warrant officer 5 stopped to salute him as well. "What the hell is going on? Not that I don't appreciate the respect, but I should be saluting them, not the other way around," asked the gunman as he stepped up to one of the tents.

"Are you kidding sir?" asked Morgan as he finally led them inside one of the large cylindrical canopies. When he got a look back from the captain, the lieutenant just shook his head. "Five thousand," he finished, holding up all five fingers on one hand. "That installation you just blew had over five thousand Chinese insurgents inside it. You were supposed to be leading three teams, and over a hundred troops total, armed to the teeth with explosives, heavy weapons, and even some with power armor to try and take the facility. But the majority of them didn't make the landing and ended up lost in the mountain range."

John was starting to get the picture. "So, we three took the facility with only us and three blocks of C4..." he said, crossing his arms over his armored chest.

Morgan just nodded. "You two entered the facility guarded by a couple thousand, cut your way through their weak spot, and managed to blow the guns, without the majority of them even noticing. You had assistance of course from the Second Lieutenant, the Gunnery Sergeant, and Corporal Watson, but it was still an incredibly impressive feat. So yeah..." said Morgan as he saluted John. "Good work, sir," he said, then turned, opened the door, and walked inside.

Benjie lifted an eyebrow as he stepped inside the tent. "Corporal Watson?"

"She's around somewhere," said a man as they walked past. Both the sergeant and the captain turned to him to see even darker skin than Morgan, but instead of a short, wiry frame offered by the lieutenant, this man was much older and much bigger. His hair was a military flat top with salt and pepper grey streaked into the coal black, and he had a small mustache to match. But the most noticeable thing about the man was that he was taller than both of them. He had the frame of a charging bull, each arm about as big around as their necks, and a barrel chest big enough to crush either of them should they want to tangle. Even while sitting, he was extremely intimidating and cut a clear picture of a military man to the core. "Master Sergeant Washington," said the man, standing at attention before him.

John dismissed the military etiquette. "No need for that Sergeant, at ease," he said, his curiosity peaked now. So, she was out there with us?"

The man nodded his head and smiled. "She was...so to speak. She wasn't supposed to be, but she stole my rifle…" he said pulling up a large, long barreled rifle with a scope that John figured he could see Pluto through.

"Then she's the reason I don't have a bullet in my ass," said John as he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

The Master Sergeant nodded and gave a grin. "She got a hell of a telling off when she got back. But then again, if she saved you, then I suppose we can't really complain."

John chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Well, not me certainly," he said as he reached forward and offered his hand.

The man shook his hand firmly. "Always a pleasure sir. If you ever need my scope, I'm an even better shot than her. Hope to see your work in the future." said the marine. He nodded in respect, then left the tent.

"I guess that just leaves meeting Corporal Watson," said Benjie as he leaned against the wall. Yae walked in as he spoke, and he couldn't help his eyes dancing over her form.

"You'll meet her soon enough," said a firm voice behind them. Immediately, the sergeant stiffened, and both of them turned around faced the new man at full attention. He had a crew cut as sharp as a diamond and a face that looked like it was carved out of stone. He currently wore a winterized heavy coat that practically oozed authority. Despite his sharp as a razor appearance, the man also had a small amount of facial hair growing on his face. "At ease men," ordered the general as he picked up a cup of steaming coffee and sipped it gratefully. "I just want you both to know how much I appreciate the fact that you made my job a hell of a lot easier."

"Sir!" shouted the sergeant. John just stayed silent.

"You can unwind yourself now Sergeant. We're at war, so as long as you know who's in charge, there's no need for formalities here," he said, and they both loosened up. Benjie doing so at a much slower pace.

"Lieutenant Morgan said you were waiting for me. If you don't mind me asking sir, why?" asked John as he looked at the four silvery stars pinned to the man's collar.

The general's face never seemed to change expression, even when a laugh could be heard in his voice. "You just blew up a mountain full of communist dogs. Who in their right mind wouldn't want you on their side?" asked General Chase. When he received a look of skepticism from the younger man, however, he just chuckled. "Alright, you've got me. I'm sure the Lieutenant there has already told you that he's pretty much got any dirt on you he'll ever need. We know what you are, and why you were created. That's why we wanted you."

John cocked an eyebrow. "Alright...care to enlighten me?" he asked, once again unsure of how much this person knew about the current situation.

The general just sighed. "Please tell me they at least informed HIM of what they were doing with him," snapped General Chase as he turned to Lieutenant Morgan. Morgan just shrugged his shoulders, causing the general to sigh. Turning back to John, the general just gave him a stony look. "You are here because you are the Grey Fox. Your actions at the artillery guns are proof of this. You were sent here to win this war for us. So that's exactly what I intend to do, use you as the United States' killing blow."

John nodded, right as Yae walked into the tent. "Now now sir. Even as an outsider I can tell when you're taking the reins," she said, sitting down in one of the spinning chairs and crossing her legs.

He eyed her crossly. "If we waited for the government to make a move, we'd be extinct as a species. So yes, I'm taking command of this theater, and we're moving in on the opposition while we have their nuts in a vice," he said, then looked over at John. "If you have an issue with my actions, I can't force you to follow my orders. I just ask that you consider helping me end this conflict."

John smirked at the older man and nodded. "Whatever makes the war shorter. I'm all yours, General," said the gunman as he cracked his knuckles. The man finally smiled.

"Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get down to business and explain our plan of attack," he said, then turned to Morgan. "Go fetch the others, and make sure to get Corporal Watson in here. She can finish cleaning the latrine later," he ordered as he walked over to the table in the center of the tent.

He just stared at the map on holographic display until Lieutenant Morgan came back. Following the man was a group of soldiers that all looked about as winter-weary as the general himself. At the very back of the line was a young girl, who looked to be in her late teens or early twenties. She had the more agile Mongoose armor on, as opposed to the Grizzly combat armor that John and the sergeant wore, and she had a head of feathery short red hair that matched the freckles on her face.

As soon as she saw John, she immediately exploded with energy. Running up to the gunman, she grabbed his arm and began to shake him. "Duuuuude! I saw how you took out those bunkers! And the guns! That was awesome! You were all like ratatatatatatatatat..." she said, moving her hands as if she were holding a machine gun. "...and they were all like BOOOOOSH!" she finished, throwing her arms up, imitating an explosion.

"Corporal, please try to maintain some of your professionalism for this meeting," grumbled General Chase in a weary voice.

The corporal stood straight and saluted the man. "Sir, yes sir!" she shouted.

The man just sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration. "You don't salute while indoors Corporal."

The young woman snapped her hand behind her back and looked at the ground sheepishly. "Oh...sorry sir."

"Let's just get this started before I expire," said the general as he walked over to the table. "Alright, everyone pay attention. I'm only going over this once," he ordered as the table flickered with holographic light. The soldiers all gathered around the display. "Thanks to a certain someone, we no longer have to worry about artillery strikes from the mountains. That allows us to move without worry of being turned into confetti. Before, we were confined because we were too close to their own home base to fire on without risking their own general," he said as the dossier on General Jingwei appeared alongside a picture of the man. Everyone looked up at the Chinese officer. "This is our target. Cut the head off the snake, as they say," he said, changing the map again. "The problem is, we have two other targets to hit before we even get to the big dog."

Corporal Watson's hand shot into the air, flapping about madly as she shouted, "Oh! Oh! Me! Pick me!"

The general sighed again and looked at her. "What is it, Corporal?"

Putting her hand down, she put her arms behind her back. "The Listening Post has intel! Can I go?" she asked excitedly, practically bouncing on her heels.

"You aren't leaving the base," said the general firmly. The girl wilted at the remark, and the man continued his assessment. "As I was saying, Jingwei has two outposts outside the confines of the pulse field. These are the Chimera Tank Depot, as seen here..." he said, highlighting a small facility cloaked by the side of a mountain. "And the Listening Post, a communications hub for their entire operation in Anchorage, here," he said, changing the highlight to a tower structure built on the side of one of the mountains opposite the depot. "I'd like our special guest here tonight to inform me of which of these targets he intends to hit first," said the general as he fixed John with a gaze.

The gunman looked up at the much older man with shock, then just ran a hand through his spiked hair. "Alright..." he said, staring at the map curiously. "So to get to the depot, we have to go through this canyon. Lots of places to hide mines and a wide open place for a tank barrage. Is the mining town outside the Listening Post in Chinese hands?" he asked as he looked up at the general. Getting a nod from the rugged man, he looked back down at the map. "First and foremost, we have to take the mining town. There could still be civilians there, and our top priority should be to get them out of there and evacuate the town."

The general shook his head. "Our priority is that post. We're not here for the civilians I'm afraid."

"Then why the hell are we here?" asked John, who received a dumbfounded look from everyone in the room with the exception of the lively corporal. Despite his shock, however, Sergeant Montgomery stood next to the captain and nodded. General Chase, who's normally stone-like face was the stuff of legends, dawned a look of shock. "Those people are American citizens who were living their life when the world around them suddenly crashed down on their heads. What makes America so much better than China if we just leave them there because we want our oil back?" he asked, his face a mask of anger.

The general just stared at John as the people around the gunman started to inch away from him. All except the sergeant, who had somewhat of a proud smile on his face. Meanwhile, the corporal rested her chin on the table and was looking back and forth between the two with an awed expression.

Finally, the general spoke. "You're right. I decided to lead this charge ahead but still wanted to think like the government. If I'm breaking away, I might as well do things my own way," he said and nodded. "As you will. Search for the civilians and get them out of harm's way."

John's frame, as well as everyone around him, loosened slightly at the approval. "After securing the mining town, we'll move up on the Listening Post and take it first. Without communication, we'll be able to set up better to take the depot. And if we're fast and lucky, then Jingwei won't even know what hit him," he finished confidently.

"Alright, that sounds good for now. Once the listening post is in our hands, I want you back here so we can immediately start on plans for the depot, Fox," ordered the general as he shut down the display. "Everyone, get some rest. We've got an army to kick out of our country tomorrow," said the man as he turned away from them and sat in a cushioned chair. John nodded, and the others behind him, including Benjamin, cheered.

OoOoO

Later that night, John, Benjamin, Yae, the wily Corporal who went by Elsa, and a few others were gathered around a large fire built to scare away the cold. John just leaned back in a wooden chair that he had been given to rest on, stretching himself out. He no longer had his armor on, but both that and his weapons were within arms reach in case they were needed.

Benjamin, the gunman had started to notice, seemed to have taken a liking to the nimble lieutenant that had aided them at the munitions plant. He now sat next to her, eating a heated MRE that he had just cracked open, while Yae sat next to him, just leaning back and gazing up at the stars. When the sergeant had gotten to his dessert, he offered it to the woman.

She looked down at him and smiled gratefully. "Why thank you, Sergeant. Such a gentleman," she said as she opened the pouch of apple pie and dug into it.

Sergeant Montgomery just looked away, his red face now with an awkward smile. "No problem at all," he said, making John chuckle at the adorable scene before looking over at the small figure sitting next to him. Corporal Elsa Watson was truly a strange creature to behold. She was short, and as he found out from the General, not even twenty yet. She was overly hyperactive most of the time, which could be extremely annoying in certain situations, and she loved her video games. Something she was expressing at the moment by tapping and jabbing at her pipboy's buttons. But the most terrifying thing about her that he had learned, was from Yae herself.

The young girl was both a tech wizard and a crack shot. If you gave her a pile of scrap metal and a circuit board, she could probably launch it into space within an hour. He had also heard a horror story from one of the marines stationed here about how she had retrofitted one of the REPCONN rocket toys into an actual launchable rocket. Then she launched it, straight into the marines barracks. The small figurine blasted through one of the walls, injured a soldier who had just decided to get up and visit the head, then blew out the other side of the barracks and detonated on impacting a tree.

The tree was on fire in the morning and the camp had to be evacuated because of the hazardous nature of the rocket fuel she had used to power its flight. She had been just a private at the time, so she had no rank to lose, but she did have to run around the barracks and expel some of her excess energy because of it.

On top of that, he was told that she could nail the wings of a butterfly in a hurricane with a sniper rifle. He sat, staring at the energetic young woman curiously, wondering if she was truly capable of such feets. Then again, he recalled her taking down the soldier on the cliffside. He had used the blood spatter caused by the bullet to chart her direction, but saw nothing but miles of open space and mountains. If she really had been that far away when she shot, then she was even more amazing than he thought.

Right now, she pounded away at her pipboy's buttons as she played one of the games she currently had installed. John looked over and tried to peak at the screen, seeing some kind of game where two people were fighting to the death. He watched in amusement as one of the cartoon figures knocked the others head off with a baseball bat and sent it soaring into space. Then Vault-Boy appeared with his hand on his hip and a thumbs down, with the words **YOU LOSE!** underneath him.

The girl's eye twitched, then she rolled onto her back and reached for the sky. "Noooooooooo! Cheats! Hacks! Judas! How could you do this to me!?" she said, before letting out a loud sigh. Looking over, she saw the large smile on John's face. "What?" she asked sharply as she crossed her arms and pouted.

"Nothing...you just...remind me of me when I was younger," he said, not really believing the words he was saying. She was only a year or two younger than he was and technically was more experienced than him. But somehow he was the super soldier here. The thought just made him chuckle even more.

"How old are you?" asked the girl as she crossed her legs and tilted her head towards him curiously.

"I'm twenty now," he responded, his mind soaring back to when he left the vault. His birthday had been a few months away when he left. When it came, he had just stayed in his house and ignored the coming date. It frankly amazed him how quickly time flew by once he was no longer under the protection of the vault.

"Do you play any games on your pipboy?" she asked curiously as she crawled up to him, resting her head in his lap.

He just chuckled at the adorable figure. "I'm afraid not. I haven't had much of an opportunity to. Almost since I...left training, I've been in a fight for my life from one thing or another," he said, clearly avoiding the more intimate details of his life.

Sergeant Montgomery just smirked. "That's it? What, have you been on vacation?" he asked jokingly. The group around them laughed quietly.

John looked at the people around him, laughing and having fun. His mind hurt, simply from the scope of how this could be so realistic. All of these people seemed as real as he was, as real as his father, and Amata, and Lucy. The level of technology blew even his mind as he shivered slightly at the cold night air that was trying to fight off the heat of the blazing fire in front of them. Looking down at the curious brown eyes of Elsa staring up at him, he smiled and gently ruffled her hair, getting a giggle from the girl.

It was then that he made a decision. All of these people may not be real, they may just be holographic in nature, but he'd learn from them as much as he could, and he'd carry that back to the real world. He wanted them all to live through him so that some existence of them beyond the holographic machine could be made.

The sergeant sitting across the fire from him ran a hand through his hair as he gazed at the gunman. "So sir, if you don't mind me asking, what's your story?" he asked curiously. Almost immediately, every eye around the fire was locked on John.

"My story? You want to know where I come from?" he asked nervously, wondering if somehow the sim was reading his mind. The sergeant nodded and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well..." he started, scratching his head, wondering how much of the truth he should reveal. If this was a simulation, after all, it's not like they would understand. Likely that kind of safety had been thought of ahead of time, but he didn't feel the need to push his luck. "I was born in Washington DC. Grew up a pretty easy life until a few years ago. My mother died at birth, and my one constant in my life, my father, left. So I went after him."

Everyone's eyes were glued to him. "You went after him? Where did he go?" asked Elsa as she gazed up at him curiously with her head still resting on his lap.

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "I'm still not quite sure. I haven't found him yet. It was hard to look for him because I had to fight every single day just for food and water," he said, getting dangerously close to saying that he had had to kill. But he thought the better of it, as pre-war America still had laws and stigmas about killing someone. "Long and short is, I became well known for taking care of problems and surviving against really bad odds. So when this shady government group gave me an offer I couldn't refuse, I signed up. And now I'm here."

"Could you be any more vague?" asked Yae as she sat back in her chair with a smile. "Come on, what was this group?"

But John shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say. But they are very dangerous people, and they brought me here to do what I do best. Solve problems," he said, then eyed the Japanese woman with just as much curiosity. "How about you Hummingbird?" he asked playfully. "What's your story?"

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I suppose you deserve to know who's going to be at your back," she said, taking a sip from her canteen before closing her eyes, her silky ebon hair fluttering as a breeze rushed by. Sergeant Montgomery next to her immediately perked up as she spoke. "I was born in Nagoya, Aichi Prefecture, in the Chūbu region of Japan. When I was young, I wanted to be a dancer. So that's what I trained for. From the time I was four years old, I wanted to dance like the fan dancers I saw in the vids when I was a child."

"An admirable goal," remarked John, interested in the culture that the woman brought to the table.

She snorted and gave him an odd glance. "Right. When I was still in my teens, both of my parents were killed in a Chinese bombardment from off the coast of the Pacific. I was taken into a shelter, and it was all written up as a mistake. One big targeting error on China's behalf," she said, snorting bitterly. "And the Prime Minister just ate it up." At that point, Benjamin's hand raised and rested itself on her shoulder, squeezing gently. She placed her own hand on his and squeezed back. "After the incident with my parents, I joined the military, swearing that if they ever stepped a toe over the treaty line, then I'd be there to drag them across it and rip them apart. And now here we are, fighting the Chinese on American soil because of an apology accepted from a rat."

John was a bit awestruck as he stared at the woman. "I'm...sorry..." he said. She just flapped her hands at him.

"It wasn't you. It was the Chairman. And he got what he was due." she said with a satisfied smile.

"Oh..." said John, then dawned a look of understanding. "Oooooohhhh. Did the Prime Minister finally get his shit together?"

"Nope," said the woman, her look saying that no more information was coming out. He went wide-eyed, realizing that she had all but admitted to assassinating a foreign leader.

"Alright then…" said John as he looked around, immediately wanting to change the subject. He looked over at Benjamin with a curious eye. "So! How about you Benjie? Any stories to share?"

The soldier looked taken aback for a moment before reaching up and running a hand through his brown hair. "I...grew up in a violent place on the outskirts of Boston. Got in trouble with a lot of gangs. Ended up joining one. Was like my only family, seeing as my dad had died from an automotive accident and my mom buried herself in a bottle afterward. Well, me and the boys ended up on the wrong end of some guy's boots. We just came out of a bar and bumped into him. It was four on one, but he handed all our asses to us. As it turns out, he was a recruiter with the marines," he said, getting a giggle from Yae. He looked over at her with a playful glare.

She just held her side as she looked at him. "Don't tell me, you got beaten down by a recruiter, then recruited into the military," she asked, almost bursting at the seams with laughter. He just nodded, making her hold on her humor crack. He just crossed his arms and glared at her. "I'm sorry, it's just such a backward scenario that I wasn't able to contain myself."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway..." he said, turning to the others. "Staff Sergeant Hagalaz was his name. Said his mom had a thing for vikings or whatever. He dragged me and the rest to the hospital to get cleaned up. While he was there we started talking, and..." he said, turning his head away in embarrassment.

Yae sat up curiously and jabbed him in the ribs with a finger. "Go on," she ordered as he jabbed back playfully.

"He talked to me like I'd never been talked to before. Like a father scolding a son. When I was young, my father had worked all the time, so when he was home, he didn't have time for discipline. So when he stood there, giving me what I'd never had, I felt something click inside myself. I knew I had to join. It was the structure and security I was looking for," he said, still eying the Japanese woman sternly as her smile had never faded.

"And you?" asked John, as he turned to Corporal Watson. "How does an unusual girl like you get into the military?"

She gave him a threatening glare from his lap. "You better mean unusual in a good way."

He raised his arms defensively. "O-Of course I do," he said, calming down as the girl's smile returned.

The fiery-haired young woman stood up and stretched. "Don't remember much beyond you finding me. All I know is that I was alone and abandoned for a long time. I tried to survive as best I could, but it got lonely," she said as she crossed her arms as if she was hurting to talk about it.

John stared at her for a moment, cocking an eyebrow at her for her strange statement. "Me finding you? You mean the General?" he asked, getting a stunned look from her.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry…" she said as she scratched the back of her head. "The General found me. He pretty much raised me. And you try living in the same house with a General in the US Marines without joining. See how long you can hold out."

The gunman stared at her for a long moment, noting the nervous look on her face, and found himself wondering if she had really just misspoke, or if she was hiding something from him. He couldn't be sure, but it was pretty late, so she may just be tired.

Finally, the gunman looked at the others around him, when something struck him. "Where's the Master Sergeant?" he asked, looking at the group of people for the older man.

"Washington? He's with the marine crew over in the 62nd," said the young woman as she sat next to his feet.

"Why isn't he here with us? He offered his scope, so he should be going with us tomorrow," asked the captain, aiming his questioning gaze at the Japanese woman across the fire from him.

She shrugged at his question. "I assume his company needs him for something or another," she said nonchalantly. John just shook his head and stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I need to speak with the General," he just said he walked off into the darkness.

OoOoO

"So, let me get this straight. You want me to pull a Master Sergeant from the 62nd over to your squad for when you hit the mining camp?" asked the elder man as he eyed the captain in irritation.

"That's right sir. He offered his skills. So if he's game to hit the front lines hard, I'd like him transferred, if only temporarily," responded John as he stared the general eye to eye.

The general just sighed and rubbed his temples. "Alright, that's fine. Is there anything else?" he asked, taking a long sip of a steaming drink.

"Yeah...there's something else I wanted to ask you about the mission tomorrow..." said the gunman as he scratched his chin.


	19. Demoralized

OoO( 19 )OoO

The sun had risen in the northern Alaska sky, bringing a small amount of warmth to those who stood nearly knee high in snow. A small army had been formed to retake the mining town, consisting of a coalition between the American and Japanese military. The snowfall was light that day as the sun occasionally made an appearance through a light blanket of clouds.

John stood separately from the others though. And so did the rest of his group, which now consisted of Gunnery Sergeant Montgomery, Master Sergeant Washington, Second Lieutenant Goto, and even Corporal Watson. The young girl had refused to stop hugging the captain's leg for getting her assigned to his group. Since then, she had stubbornly and excitedly clung to him. The General had been extremely displeased with the decision at first, but after much convincing, he finally allowed the second transfer. But only under extreme orders from the big man that she was to be her absolute most professional, and to follow every order to a tee.

She happily agreed and was currently bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet as the group assembled with a few more people. John turned to the others, his goggles currently on his head of spiked hair as he looked over the newcomers.

"Alright, time to meet the rest of you," he said walking in front of them all with his assault rifle held firmly in both hands. "The rest of you don't know me yet, but you will. I've only been an active agent for a short time, but in that short time I've probably seen and killed more than most," he said, getting a few claps from the audience. But he just shook his head. "That's not something to be applauded for. Don't clap for how many lives someone has taken, clap for how many they've saved. And that's why you're here with me. To save as many lives as possible," he said as he began walking down the line and meeting the different soldiers on his squad.

By the end of the introductions, he had been introduced to a young and eager Lance Corporal Mateo, a Filipino girl who wore her shoulder length hair in a professional bun on the back of her head. A staff sergeant by the simple name of McDonald, who was as blonde as sunlight, but wore an eye patch in military colors due to a skirmish they had in the annexation of Canada. A Private First Class with short, dark hair who seemed to constantly have a cigarette in his mouth and a smile on his face, with the name Hanssen on his nametag. The final member of the team was a British vehicle specialist by the name of Ryan Letourneau, who was a bald as a melon and wore thin-rimmed glasses.

After meeting them all, John went back to the front of the formation and addressed them once more. "As I said, I don't know all of you yet. But I intend to get to know you a little better as the mission proceeds. I know a few of you might not like the fact that I'm in charge, but I'm going to require you to do exactly as I order in order for this operation to go smoothly. Is that understood?" asked the gunman. They all shouted out their respective branches battle cry and stood at attention. "Good. The main bulk of the force will be marching ahead of us. We are the dagger in the enemy's side. So we're going to slide in after they have their attention and neutralize," he said, turning to face the rising sun.

The second in command, Yae, stepped up beside him as he turned around. "Very dramatic, but I felt like you were missing the big climax at the end. You know, where everyone cheers and throws their hats up."

"That's because the speech isn't over," he said with a smile. She looked over and saw the determined grin on his face.

"What are you planning?" she asked curiously.

He just grinned at her wolfishly. "Do you trust me Second Lieutenant?" he asked curiously, earning him a surprised expression at the question.

"I...do, I suppose. Why?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Then I'm asking you to do exactly as I say when I say it. We're walking a very fine line, and the entire battle here may hang in the balance if there's even a moment of hesitation," he said as he turned to face her, his voice low enough so the others couldn't hear.

Taken aback slightly, she nodded. "I...Of course I will," she said, a bit baffled by the proclamation. "So, care to divulge to me what's going on?"

"I want you to know that I trust you too. And that's why I'm going to tell you that we have a spy among us," he said, making her face morph into a grim expression. "Before Benjie and I arrived at your location, we stumbled on a terminal that explained in detail the weakness we were trying to exploit. After bringing it to Morgan, he found that it wasn't a story that had taken the plane down. But, sole troops that kept watch on the area with ground to air shrike missiles. Had Benjie and I not left the plane as soon as we did, we would have been dead with the rest. As for the rest...well…"

"I understand. So then, how does that connect us to this mission?" she asked curiously as she tilted her head.

"I trust you, and I trust Benjie. And of course Elsa…" he said, eyeing the excited girl who waved at him from the crowd. "But the others are all here because they are suspects. So now my job is to not only pave the way to the main base of General Jingwei but to find out which one it is and bring them to justice. Your discretion will also be appreciated."

She nodded with a confident expression. "Alright. I'll do as you say without question," she said without hesitation. "What's the plan?"

OoOoO

John had taken the small amount of time he had left to learn more about them from their own dossiers.

 **Sergeant (E-5) David McDonald**  
**Birthdate: March 5, 2030**  
 **During his deployed tour of duty in the combat zone of Vancouver, Sergeant (Sergeant E-5 at the time) showed exceptional service in the line of duty when he protected his squad against highly volatile liquid that was thrown at him and his squad mates in a riot during the annexation of Canada.**

The sergeant just laughed as John read off the account to him. The gunman looked up at him curiously. "That's pure bullshit, sir. It was a cup of coffee, and the guy who was holding it was shot with a beanbag by some trigger happy little shit private. Even gasping and wheezing afterward, he apologized to me profusely," said the man, getting a laugh from John.

"So your eye was taken out by coffee?" he asked sincerely.

The man just nodded. "It's cold up here in the north sir. They have their coffee scorching," he replied, tapping the eye patch. John merely smiled and shook his head, continuing to read.

**After the emergency surgical procedure that took his right eye, the Sergeant was promoted to the rank of Staff Sergeant (E-6) and given a Purple Heart service ribbon for his contribution to the military.**

At the bottom of the dossier was a section marked ' **Potential Security Risk** ' John kept silent as he read that portion, not allowing anyone else to see what he was reading. **Sergeant (E-5) David McDonald has always had a passion for two things. His job, and his women. His particular fondness extends to a few brothels in the Canadian province of Montreal, where he went to one, in particular, that was well known to have a Chinese sympathizer working. Possibility of security risk low.**

John then stepped over to Lance Corporal Mateo, the very serious, but excited about her job, Hawaiian girl who had been born in the Philippines. He pulled up her dossier on his pipboy next.

**Lance Corporal (E-3) Cheryl Mateo**   
**Birthdate: December 14, 2046**   
**Lance Corporal (E-3) Mateo was recently transferred from a facility in South Carolina to Camp Laufey outside Juneau. Her deployment record is nil. Her first active tour of combat zone duty was to Camp Laufey, a transportation specialist under Colonel (O-6) Steven Tucker. Hobbies consist of driving, racing vehicles, and mechanical engineering.**

John eyed her curiously as he read off the dossier. "You like to joyride?" he asked.

She shook her head and saluted. "No, sir! Joyriding is for amateurs sir!" she shouted, not a single hint of a smile on her face. John just chuckled, eventually making her crack a small smile.

Once again, his eyes drifted to the potential security risk section, reading it silently to himself. **Lance Corporal (E-3) Cheryl Mateo went to school with a lot of Chinese immigrants in Hawaii. It was from them that she learned her skills behind the wheel. She occasionally has correspondence with them, one of which is in prison, and has befriended a known Chinese insurrectionist. Possibility of security risk medium.** John nodded to her, then moved on down the line.

**Private First Class (E-2) Robert Hanssen**   
**Birthdate: June 13, 2043**   
**Private First Class (E-2) Robert Hanssen (Private E-1 at the time) was stationed at Camp Skaldi before news of the Chinese invasion. When communist China first hit the shores, Camp Skaldi was the first target of their wrath. Private First Class Razrin was among those taken by the Chinese and tortured for information. Six months after capture, Camp Skaldi was retaken by Allied forces and the soldiers there recovered.**

John looked up at the Private before him. "Glad to see you smiling. Not many people would be after an experience like that."

The young man just shrugged. "Shit happens. I got over it," he said, a bit of a sour note in his voice, but never losing his smile. The gunman looked down and read the potential security risk section. **Refused to talk about what he was questioned about during detainment. Despite this, has worked with intelligence previously, and might have had low-level access to battle plans. The only connection to invaders is from Camp Skaldi. Possibility of security risk low.** John just shook his head and moved down to the last in line.

 **Agent: Sergeant Ryan Letourneau**  
 **Birthdate: January 25th, 2036**  
 **Sergeant Ryan Letourneau of her Majesty's Royal Army was brought over as an expert in all military vehicles. He was a specialist in most forms of** armored **vehicle and is able to reverse engineer most any vehicle he gets his hands on. We acquired him through a mutual agreement between the two great nations of the United States and Great Britain to annex his home country of Canada.**

The man looked up at the bald figure curiously. "You fought with the US to take Canada?" he asked, getting a nod from the sergeant.

"I did," he said, elaborating no further. John just nodded in acknowledgment and looked down at the man's risk factor. **Sergeant Latornaeu is married to a Chinese immigrant. She keeps in touch with her parents back in Beijing. Parental affiliation unknown. Possibility of security risk medium.**

Putting the dossiers away, stepped up in front of them again. "Alright. The main force is now moving towards the mining town. It's about time for us to move as well, so stick close, and as I said before, I need you to follow all of my orders to the letter. Anything less could cost hundreds of lives," he ordered as he turned away from all of them and began marching towards the horizon with his assault rifle in his arms. Yae marched next to him on his left, and Benjie on his right, while Corporal Watson eagerly followed in his trail.

"Something big gonna happen?" asked Sergeant Montgomery as the entire group started moving towards the mining town as well.

"Sergeant, I just ask that you trust me, and trust our Lieutenant here," he said, only loud enough for the four of them to hear.

Benjamin looked at John, then back to the Asian woman who winked at him. He just chuckled. "Alright, I get it. Above my pay grade," he said with an overdramatic huff.

"Don't worry sergeant, I'll pay you back for your patience once we have Anchorage again," she said the Asian woman with a genuine smile.

He just eyed her sternly. "That's fraternization ma'am," he said, getting a giggle out of her. But he couldn't help the warm smile that covered his own face.

"Alright, here we go," he said, turning to the Japanese woman. "Goto, go on and scout ahead. You know where to go," he ordered as the others caught up. She nodded, then tapped at her pipboy and vanished, much to the surprise of most of the squad. Turning to the others, John smiled. "Alright, here's where we double time!" he shouted, turning around. The others readied their weapons, and the unit as a whole began to march at a brisk jog towards their destination.

After about a minute or so, the English sergeant spoke up. "Um, not for nothing sir, but you realize we're headed in the wrong direction?" asked the bald man. John said nothing and continued, as did the rest of the group. Nobody else said a single word.

After a few minutes travel, they arrived at a large canyon. "Master Sergeant, front and center!" shouted John as they stopped. The large dark-skinned man stepped forward, his long-barreled sniper in his hands as he did. "I want you to watch this pass like a hawk as we move through it. I've seen the kind of tech the reds have, and open grounds like this are prime real estate for it. So keep a close eye on us as we move along," he ordered. The master sergeant nodded with a smile, then began climbing one of the cliffs at their side.

Once John felt the master sergeant had a good perch, he waved to the others, who did as he did, crouched and moved along the outside edge of the canyon. The first disturbance happened when a small pile of snow exploded upwards, surprising the whole group. Out of the ground crawled a small mechanical spider-like contraption with a round, flat body, about the size and shape of a hockey puck, with one gleaming red eye in the center. On the outside of its tiny body, four clicking metal legs left the ice crystals from the snow in a trail behind them as it rushed towards the group.

John immediately raised his assault rifle but refrained from firing when he heard a shot ring out. The small machine exploded into a shower of sparks as the sniper's round tore it to shreds. John just raised a thumb in the air, thanking the man, then moved them all forward again. But it wasn't long before more of the creatures exploded out of the snow and skittered towards the small unit. Each of the squad, most of them now knowing what to expect, dropped to a knee and fired on the small bots. But there were too many.

"Shit...was hoping to save this..." said the gunman as he whipped a grenade off his belt and threw it. Everyone who saw the small oval immediately jerked back in surprise, but instead of the typical fiery detonation they expected, it just popped in mid-air and sunk into the snow, melting through it. All of the small spiders in the area immediately started spasming uncontrollably before detonating. The group looked to John, who immediately started moving again towards the end of the canyon. The gunman put up one hand and spun it around, the sign for the group to rally back together.

They waited until Washington was back with them before moving forward again. "Is this the tank depot?" asked Sergeant McDonald.

"Woah! Tanks are awesome!" said Corporal Watson as she pumped her hands in front of her excitedly.

John looked back at them. "Quiet. It's not going to be awesome if they end up aiming one of those things at us," he said as he scanned the distance with his binoculars. "We've got four heavies out in the yard. We have to move up past the first guard outpost before we can get into the yard, so our job will be to take them down as silently as possible so we can progress," he said as he ducked down.

"Where did the Lieutenant go?" asked Sergeant Montgomery.

"She went ahead to scout out for us. She's been reporting to me through here," he said, tapping the computer on his arm. "Regardless, get ready to move out." The team rallied behind their leader and began to move forward through the blinding snow. It didn't take long for them to sneak through the weather, as the guards watching the post had bundled themselves up, thinking that freezing to death was more plausible than intruders.

John looked at Elsa, who smiled and started pushing buttons on her pipboy. "No turrets," she said quietly in his ear. He nodded, then reached up and grabbed the Chinese guard by the back of his jacket, ripping him over the railing and slamming him down into the snow.

Sergeant Montgomery reacted immediately, pouncing on the yelling guard and silencing him with his bowie knife. John nodded his head towards the wooden structure and McDonald, Letourneau, and Mateo all climbed up the sandbags and up onto the stands. McDonald immediately bumped into another of the guards, right before smashing the butt of the rifle into the man's face.

Private Mateo immediately jumped up and grabbed another of the soldiers around the neck with her legs, before twisting sharply and sending him sprawling with a backflipping leg throw. The result was her sitting on his neck with him on his back. She immediately raised her weapon and caved his face in with the back end as the English agent snapped the neck of another surprised guard. Overall, the takedown was quick and silent.

John nodded to the others, then exited the back of the shack with all of them behind him except for McDonald, who was staring at one of the men's radios. Reaching down, the sergeant pulled the radio off the man and ran up to the others, offering it to John. "Sir, word through the grapevine is that you can understand their language. Think you can monitor their traffic?" asked the eye-patched man.

John smirked at the man and nodded, taking the radio from him. "Good thinking Staff Sergeant," he said as he hooked the device to his belt. They traveled a bit of a distance further before running into their first nightmare situation. In the middle of the canyon, was one of the infamous Chimera tanks. Its body was a triangular vehicle with the typical treads of a tank, but out of the top of its silverish body was a head that had a small cannon, aiming its crystallized array directly at them. "Shit..." was all that got out of John's mouth before the cannon began charging. "Cover!" he shouted, and they all dove out of the way as a shining laser carved its way through the snow straight towards them.

John felt the blistering heat coming off the plasma as it nearly took his legs off. But he rolled through the snow and reached for his belt, where he had another EMP explosive, more commonly called pulse grenades. He didn't know if the tanks were armored against such tactics, but he was about to find out. But before he was able to do anything with the small weapon, he saw the head of the cannon turn again and aim towards his position. He rolled again, feeling his skin begin to blister as the plasma swooped over his head and carved into the cliff side.

"Shit shit shit!" he shouted as he realized that the grenade was no longer in his hand. Looking back over in the snow, he saw it laying next to his previous position. If he went for it, he would be open to the tank. But his attention was quickly taken from the grenade as he saw McDonald try and rush for it. "Staff Sergeant, don't!" he shouted, but the man was already in the open when the lasers fired again. The beam of plasma that was capable of slicing through rock found no trouble in burning through his armor and turning him to ash within seconds. His eyes widened in horror as he saw his squadmate incinerated. His eyes stung with tears and he ground his teeth together in anger.

With rage fueling him now, he jumped out of cover and rolled across the ground, wrapping his hands around the explosive. Immediately the tank's main weapon flared up again and fired directly behind him. His skin began to sweat and blister as the beam of plasma started chasing him down. But he sprinted with every muscle in his body pushed to its maximum, his hands pulling the safety free of the weapon before slamming down on the button and lobbing it towards the vehicle. Using his agility to run up a portion of the cliffside before diving over the fast-moving beam. The result was heavy scoring and burn marks across his armor.

When the grenade finally detonated, another loud pop sounded before the laser shut down. Hearing the burst, Sergeant Letourneau dove out of cover himself and bolted for the tank. "It's shielded! That will only stop it temporarily!" he shouted to the captain.

"Watson! The hatch is electronic! Open it!" shouted John as he sprinted with the English sergeant towards the tank.

She nodded, tapping on her pipboy. The hissing sound of the pressure inside the machine releasing sounded, followed by the top of the metal door opening. The hatch immediately flew open as a Chinese soldier popped up with an assault rifle. The gunman fired a round into the man's head, immediately killing him, then pulled the body out of the hatch.

Yelling loudly, John ordered the remaining men out of the vehicle. The others in the group just looked at him curiously.

"I heard he can understand it. Didn't know he could speak it..." said Mateo to Sergeant Montgomery.

"I saw him reading it on a Chinese terminal. Doesn't surprise me none," he said shrugging. The two soldiers remaining in the tank emerged with their hands up. The gunman edged them towards him, which they did eagerly.

Mateo walked up to John with a bit of a disappointed smirk. "Thought you had me along as a translator sir," she said, crossing her arms. He looked down at her, fighting back the horrific vision he had just witnessed, and put on a smile. Turning back to the two soldiers, he disarmed them, then handed the weapons to the Filipino girl.

He spoke once again in their language, ordering them under threat of death to run towards the American camp. The two men, though confused about how well he spoke to them, nodded and started jogging back in the direction the Americans had come. "No Lance Corporal, I brought you here for this," he said patting the tank in front of them. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him hopefully. "Ready to go joyriding?"

"What about McDonald there?" asked Montgomery as Mateo squealed with excitement.

John just shook his head. "See if his tags are still there. If so, grab them. We can't go back now," he said grimly, getting a nod. What the sergeant hadn't noticed was the gunman's fist clenched in anger. "When you're done looking, come here for a second."

The sergeant retrieved the fallen soldier's tags, then walked over to where the captain was standing. "You wanted to talk sir?" asked Benjie as he stopped next to the man.

"I want you to know that there's a spy in our group right now," he said, turning to the Boston man. Benjie's eyes widened at the revelation. "I'm telling you because you've earned my trust more than once since I've gotten here."

"Uh...thank you, sir," said the sergeant as he scratched his head. "Any idea who it is?"

John nodded lightly. "I'm fairly certain. And I've got a plan for that. But in case I'm wrong, I'm going to put you on the assault team that will be driving the tank. I want you to keep an eye on the others, make sure they don't do anything...unusual," he ordered. "You have full permission from me and the United States to eliminate any threat, foreign or domestic," he said, staring the sergeant directly in the eyes.

After a minute to process the new information, Benjamin nodded. "Yes sir," he finished, saluting the man sharply.

John nodded, then walked towards the tank again. "Montgomery, you're the backseat driver. Letourneau, you're on weapons systems. Watson, Washington, you are with me on the roof. Hanssen...Don't touch anything," he said jokingly, eying the young man, who just laughed at him. "According to Watson's readings, they should be expecting this vehicle back in about twenty minutes. Let's surprise them," he said with a deadly glare set in his eyes.

"Fuck yeah!" shouted the lance corporal as she slammed down on the pedal. The tank jerked forward and began picking up speed as the Hawaiian girl shuttered excitedly, her hands on the controls of the high tech machine. "My god it purrs like a kitten!" she said as she guided the tank quickly and smoothly through the canyon.

"I've been waitin' for the chance to get one of my hands on one of these babies," said the bald sergeant as he admired the entire inside of the tank from the gunner seat, memorizing everything he could. "Wonder what kind of damage I can do with this bugger."

"Let's not get too eager," said John from above. "Approaching gate now!" he shouted before turning to the master sergeant. "If you can get a few of the soldiers before we get there, that'd be great."

The Master Sergeant smiled and nodded, then began setting up on the top of the moving tank. When he finally had a secure hold, the sound of rounds firing echoed across the canyon. "Ready to fire sir!" shouted Letourneau from inside the machine with his light English accent.

"Hold until we're inside. We'll need this to destroy the armored fuel tanks!" shouted the gunman over the wind whipping around him.

"Ten-four sir!" shouted the bald man. John held the binoculars to his face as the marine on the other side of the tank fired away. He watched with relief as the bodies of the guards in the tower dropped.

"Approaching gates! Once we crash through, give them hell!" he shouted as he slapped his hands on the armor of the vehicle. "My squad, prepare to disembark as soon as we enter!"

A resounding, "YES SIR!" sounded from inside and outside the tank. As soon as the vehicle crashed through the chain link fence, the cannon lit up and immediately fired upon an all-terrain vehicle that had just pulled up. The laser disintegrated the humans inside and heated the hummer until it exploded.

Master Sergeant Washington jumped off the tank and started walking towards one of the nearby sniper towers that he had cleared from the outside. John just waved him off as the tank made its way into the motor pool. "Elsa, Hanssen, you two are with me!" he said as the tank came to a stop. The two followed him as he ran towards one of the nearby buildings and kicked the door in. The first soldier who had come to the door to check on the commotion outside got a face full of the door and was sent sprawling. John immediately cut his life short with a burst from his assault rifle. Elsa clung to his back, and Hanssen followed him in, turning into another doorway to clear the room.

Corporal Watson spotted someone come out of the door to their left, then held up her hand in the shape of a gun and yelled "Bang!" Her pipboy shot out two cords from inside the plastic cuff, each spiking into one of the soldiers and sent high voltage electricity through their bodies. Both of them fell to the ground, convulsing in pain before John walked over and ended their misery.

When the building was finally clear, he walked back into the main server room full of computer terminals and patted Elsa on the head. "Your turn. Get as much data as you can from these," he said in a friendly tone. She nodded happily, then plugged into one of the terminals and began farming. John looked around, noticing that Hanssen wasn't back from clearing the other side yet.

OoOoO

Private First Class Razrin had kicked the door in, just the same as John had done to the front. When two of the soldiers sprung out of their seats, he blasted them with his multi-shot combat shotgun, ending them both. Besides the two bodies, there was very little inside the room. A small table with a coffee maker, and another larger table with a computer terminal and a radio.

Immediately, he walked towards the radio and grabbed the receiver. Pressing the button on the side of the handset, he spoke silently. "Red Star, this is Spider. My current position is..."

Suddenly, the radio exploded into fragments of metal and plastic. He backed up, dropping the now unattached mic. "You have something to say to General Jingwei?" asked the Asian woman behind him. Hanssen immediately turned towards her with his shotgun, but her pistol roared again and blasted the weapon from his grip, as well as taking two of his fingers with it.

The woman grabbed him by the collar and jerked him into the hallway, dragging him up the corridor until she was in the same room as John. The gunman looked at her, then down at the Private First Class. His curious look immediately turned to disgust. "What was it?"

"He cleared the room down the hall then tried to go for a radio. He was attempting to contact someone named Red Star, but I got the radio before he could finish," she said, shoving the young man to the ground.

John knelt down in front of PFC Razrin and sighed. "They captured you and tortured you. And you repay them by betraying the ones who rescued you," said the gunman with disdain in his voice.

The young private just snorted. "Saved me my ass..." he said as he sat up on the floor, still clutching his hand. "I sat in that fucking camp for six months, watching day in and day out as more and more of my squad was dragged off and tortured to death for information, holding out some hope that the big red, white, and blue would come storming in and save us. Six months of hope in that hell hole!" he shouted at the captain. John just stared at him, so he continued. "When it was finally my turn, they pulled me off into another room and talked to me. Said that they can help me and my family and that I wasn't worth the cost it would take for the US forces to come and get me. And you know what? They were right," he said, spitting on the ground at John's feet. "If it weren't for Canada finally withdrawing from the war and handing their country over to the US, I'd still be there right now. Sleeping on a cot and listening to the screams of some of my best friends!" he said with a glare.

John drew his arm back and lashed at the private, striking him with the back of his hand. The young man fell onto his back, gasping in pain. "Those people who would supposedly help you are the same ones that tortured your friends. They singled you out because they thought you were the weakest." The gunman knelt down next to the young private and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him back up. "And they were right," he said with malice dripping from his voice. "You think they didn't offer every single person that went before you the same thing? But still you heard their screams," he said, his glare deadly enough to turn someone to stone. "You're a traitor to the USA, a traitor to those souls who died in that camp, and a traitor to your own family!" shouted the gunman as he shoved the young man down and stood up. Looking at Yae, he nodded towards the cowering man. "Secure him. Mission One accomplished. Mission Two still in progress."

She nodded, turning to the boy and flipping him onto his stomach to handcuff him. But the traitor quickly reached out and grabbed Elsa by the foot as she continued looking through the data streaming on her pipboy. The girl squeaked as she fell and was lifted up as a human shield. "Nobody fucking move or the General's daughter is dead!" he shouted, holding a knife to the redhead's throat. Both Yae and John growled, itching to grab their weapons.

The sound of destruction echoed all around them as the other squad blasted away at the unprepared depot, destroying fuel containers for the tanks, and the soldiers scurrying to try and get into one of the vehicles. Hanssen backed towards the door, holding the young girl with the knife edge pressed tightly against her throat.

John looked at Elsa and noticed an annoyed look on her face. "Elsa, don't...move," said John as another explosion shook the walls. The girl nodded and froze in place. Razrin proceeded down the hall and exited the door. Then John immediately accessed his pipboy. "Master Sergeant Washington! Private First Class Hanssen is a traitor, and currently has Corporal Watson as a hostage. Paint his ass red as soon as possible, but be careful not to hit Elsa!"

"Ten-four. Target sighted," came the man's deep voice over the radio.

The gunman turned to the lieutenant. "Cloak," he ordered, and she immediately recognized the command and went into stealth again. John rushed to the door and watched as the traitor continued backing away from them.

"I said don't fucking move!" shouted the young man as a Chimera tank came around the corner. Immediately the gun locked onto Hanssen's position. Suddenly, the private's head turned towards the tank. "Shit..." he let slip as he stumbled backward. Another shot rang out and the traitor shouted in horror as the sniper round tore through his shoulder. He fell backward into the snow, his blood pouring into the ice, melting it as his lifeblood drained out of his body through the twice-injured limb.

Yae materialized again and held a pistol to his head. "That's enough private," she growled. John immediately ran and grabbed Elsa, lifting her up and checking her neck where a small thin cut had pierced her skin. But to his relief, it was only skin deep.

John turned to the tank and waved. Soon after Mateo's head popped out of the hatch with a giant grin. "All accounted for sir!" she shouted cheerfully. He just smiled at her and sighed.

"I think I'm getting too old for this shit," he said jokingly as the redheaded girl climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Yae knelt down and patched up the traitor's shoulder with gauze, while John just sat down on the walkway. "You alright kiddo?" he asked as he turned towards the sprightly girl now sitting next to him as Sergeant Montgomery exited the tank and began walking towards them, a smile on his face at the sight of the Asian woman.

She nodded with a bright smile. "Of course! I totally could have taken him though," she said with a pout. Suddenly, her ears perked. "Was that a rocket?"

John's eyes widened and he looked over just in time to see the rocket trail flying. But not towards them; instead it was racing towards the sniper tower where the master sergeant currently stationed himself. John immediately accessed his pipboy and began yelling. "Washington! Get the hell out of there!" But within seconds of the warning, the tower exploded into a massive ball of fire, static now playing from the small speaker of his pipboy. The captain just froze in place as he watched the body of the marine master sergeant soar from the structure and crash to the ground in a burning heap.

Yae, surprised at her commander's yelling, turned and watched as well. The distraction was all that the traitorous private needed to pull his last-ditch weapon free of his boot with his only good arm. It was another, thinner knife, that he thrust upwards into one of the soft joints of the breastplate she wore. Lieutenant Goto turned, startled by the sudden pain in her chest and looked down as the young man glared at her. She didn't move, even as she heard a loud shout from Benjamin who was a few feet away now.

The traitor jumped up and immediately began running. But he didn't make it far, as an enraged Sergeant Montgomery caught him by the chin and immediately twisted, sending an echoing crack across the frozen motor pool as he broke Hanssen's neck. Benjie then dropped the dead traitor's body and immediately rushed to the woman's side. John was already examining her wound thoroughly when he arrived. Crouching down, he took her hand desperately. "Is she gonna be alright?" he asked frantically.

The gunman didn't answer immediately as he continued examining her. The woman began to breathe heavily, her blood now coating John's hands. Finally, after a long minute, the gunman just sat back in the snow and put his head in his hands, merely shaking his head as her blood coated his face.

"Benjie..." said the woman through labored breathing. Reaching up, she cupped his face with her hand. "He...got me good," she said, gasping again for breath before speaking. "I'm sorry..." she said as he reached down and held her head gently.

Her eyes closed slowly as the life continued to pour from her wound. The man just sat there for a moment, cradling her head in his lap, her blood now surrounding both of them. Finally, Benjamin looked up at John, tears now running down his face. "Why the hell didn't you do something?" he snapped as he pointed at the captain.

John just continued looking at the ground as Elsa hugged him from behind to try and console him. "I checked the wound. The blade he used pierced her heart. Even if she were on a surgical table with all sterile instruments and the supplies needed to repair the wound, it would have taken a miracle to save her," he said in the same stony voice. Benjamin just stood to his feet and walked over to the tank.

As soon as he arrived, he began to assault the metal shielding on the vehicle. "Goddammit! Goddammit! Goddammit!" he shouted as he hammered away.

After a few minutes, John finally stood and walked over to the tank. "There are still a few left in the back of the base. We have the important facility secured, so destroy any buildings you see. Don't take any chances by kicking the doors in." he ordered as he stared at the tank crew. "No mercy."

The two nodded, Letourneau, responding with, "Aye aye Captain."

But John looked at the lance corporal and waved her over. "Mateo, when you finish, you, me, and Montgomery are going to commandeer another one of the tanks that haven't been destroyed after we recover Master Sergeant Washington's body," he said, wiping away the tears that were streaming down his face.

He looked down at his wet gloved hand, covered with a friend's blood. He knew for a fact that none of this was real, but it still felt real enough to kill for. And if that's what was necessary, he was going to do it.


	20. Anchorage Liberated

OoO( 20 )OoO

Specialist Olin just looked at the ground, her hands resting against the console in front of her. She had been unable to look at the screen ever since she saw Sergeant Montgomery running towards the Asian woman, knowing what the outcome would be. Since she was a child, she had a reputation for being a hardass. Even some of the most heartbreaking moments in her life had been met with a stone cold face and a shrug of her shoulders.

But despite most of the figures on the screen being a figment of some crazy tech's imagination, she couldn't help but turn away. Jericho sat nearby, a cigarette in his mouth again and a sour look on his face. McGraw sat with his chin planted in one hand, staring at the screen with a hard glare.

Defender Sibley however, was unmoved by any of it. "Who gives a shit? Just a damn hologram anyway," he said in his annoying, gravelly tone. Jericho looked at him with a glare but said nothing.

But Specialist Olin was not so forgiving. "If it's so easy to deal with Sibley, then why don't we throw you in next and see how well you deal with it?" she asked, looking up at him with daggers in her eyes.

The defender snorted and waved her off. "Couldn't if you tried. If we could, you wouldn't need this waste rat to do our work for us," he replied nonchalantly.

She continued to glare at him. "If you have nothing useful to say, Sibley, then leave the room!" snapped the specialist, almost growling now.

The defender was about to step forward and lash at her for her impudence when McGraw stepped forward and stopped him. "She's right," he said in his country accent, getting a stunned look from the defender. "Your mouth isn't helping anyone right now. So either shut it or go back to guarding the vault."

Sibley stood there, awestruck at his commander's words. But finally, he decided that rebelling now would do very little to gain him anything. So instead, he turned around and walked out of the room to where his squad stood.

"You alright sir?" asked one of the titans in their metal armor.

Sibley just waved for the trooper to follow him. When they were well away from the simulation room, he turned to the armored figure. "You remember Protocol Hermione?" he asked, making the soldier stiffened before nodding. "It might be time to take it to completion once the waste rat gets out of the chamber," he said, his voice low.

"Roger. Just give the word sir," said the armored man.

OoOoO

Lieutenant Morgan stood at the back of the large army that had amassed at the edge of the forest outside the mining town. Thus far, none of the Chinese soldiers had noticed any movement from outside the town. But their luck wouldn't last forever. Morgan sat on the back end of one of the trucks, looking over the map he had brought along with him. The small settlement was nothing more than a gathering of small houses, all lined up in square formations nearby the mines. New additions to the towns were small pillboxes that dotted in between the houses, allowing the invaders inside to see movement all around them.

He just sighed and looked at the representation of the mines on the map as his mind wondered. "He said they'd be here by now," said the female soldier sitting across from the lieutenant. He looked up at her through his thick glasses.

"I know, but I have to trust that he knows what he's doing. They have a lot of turrets set up in that town, and his solution may be the only thing that will keep us from losing hundreds of soldiers," he said he marked on the map all of the turret locations that the other intelligence corps had given him.

Almost as if summoned by magic, there was a loud yelling at the northern side of the camp. The Lieutenant stood to his feet and immediately brought up a pair of binoculars to his eyes. A smile lit his face as he saw two Chimera class tanks rolling into the town and demolishing several of the pillboxes with its high powered cannon. He reached down and grabbed the whistle around his neck as he saw troops flooding out of the mine and the various buildings to try and repel the rogue tanks. Putting the instrument to his lips, he blew with all his might.

"Rally up! Time to hit the backdoor!" he shouted as he buckled himself into the ATV. Immediately, soldiers, vehicles, and canines were gathered and began charging towards the small town. One of the tanks that was receiving flank fire by the turrets near the mine turned its cannon and vaporized the small machines. As soon as both sets of turrets were down, the army flooded through the buildings, some entering the dwellings and checking on the citizens that were bound and gagged in their own homes, and others stampeding towards the red invaders, hitting them with assault rifle fire. The town was down in less than a minute, with the flag of the US flying over it once again.

Lieutenant Morgan approached one of the tanks, the hatch popping as he did. John thrust himself out of the vehicle as the dark-skinned lieutenant stopped in front of him. "Goddamn, you weren't kidding when you said this would kick them in the ass," he said, but his cheerful demeanor vanished as he saw the look on the soldier's face. "What happened?"

"Lieutenant Goto, Sergeant McDonald, and Master Sergeant Washington were killed in action," he said, reaching around his neck and pulling the tags off, handing them over to the intel officer. Morgan looked at him stunned.

"What about PFC Hanssen?" he asked as he took the holotags of the fallen soldiers and noticed the private's among them.

"He was...dealt with," said John, glaring at the ground at his own feet.

Morgan nodded, getting his meaning. "I see. So the leak has been eliminated then?" he asked, more of a statement than a question. John nodded as the officer looked at him. "So, where do we go from here?"

John walked over to where the map was now laying across the bed of the truck that Morgan had previously been sitting on. Pointing to the listening post, he simply said. "The tanks are more than enough to take out the defenses there. Just swarm it and kick their asses out," he ordered, receiving a nod from Morgan.

"And the pulse field?" asked the lieutenant.

"The cannon on the tanks can penetrate the ground far enough to destroy the emitters. Once we have the listening post, we'll clear a path straight to Jingwei's front door," he said, looking down at the man. "Is there anything else we need to know about beyond the field?"

Morgan shook his head, still eying the map. "We can't see behind the walls of his compound. So there's no telling what he's got out there. But..." he said pointing to the Chinese made trenches in front of the compound. "How do you plan to get the tanks over these?"

"We build bridges for them. Clear out the trenches of invaders, then start building over the top of them. Once we have them across, we can clear a path to the building that powers the field and shut it off for good."

"Couldn't we just destroy the control tower with the tanks from outside the field?" asked the Lieutenant.

"Chances are the grid is separate from the activation controls. So if we destroy it, there's a good possibility that we may not be able to shut it off. Better to just clear the way and flip the switch ourselves." he said as he took a scarf that was handed to him by Elsa and wrapped it around his neck. "If we're going to do this, then let's hurry it up. I've lost too many of my squad today to let this shit go on for much longer."

The lieutenant nodded. "I'll inform the General," he said as he turned and began jogging back across the mining town.

As the troops gathered up the miners, they were met with much gratitude. John himself walked among the beaten and bruised citizens, watching as they were filed away from the mine. Several times, a few of the native Alaskans came up to him and bowed their head in thanks. All he did was nod his head towards them and continue walking.

It had taken less than an hour for the Listening Post to be liberated from the hands of Communist China. Once freed of the invaders, General Chase made the post his own headquarters for the final charge against Jingwei's forces. John, sick of planning and plotting, excused himself until the time in which everyone was ready to go. He knew the plan. Hell, he'd made the plan. So getting briefed on it was useless.

He found himself staring out across the trenches that the Chinese had burrowed into the ground. He could see the compound from where he stood, and the field of snow which had a sheen of electricity flowing across it in front. "What do you have in store for us?" he asked to the wind. It was then that he felt a tugging on his coat. Turning, he looked down at the small figure of Corporal Watson standing next to him, looking at the ground sheepishly. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

The girl fidgeted for a moment, before finally looking up at him. "Father says I can't come along this time. But he also said that this would be the last push to get the Chinese out of Alaska," she said, getting a nod from John as she looked down and sniffed quietly. "That means that when this mission is finished, I won't be able to see you again."

The gunman's heart melted immediately, making him break into a huge smile. Kneeling down, he tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him. "Don't worry. Even if we never see each other again, I'll always be right here," he said, tapping his finger on her nametag.

"In my name?" she asked, tilting her head curiously. He just looked at her sternly, causing her to giggle. "I know. But...I wanted to give you something for when you left, so that you'll remember me," she said as she reached forward and grabbed his pipboy. Taking out the cable on hers, she tapped a few buttons and he noticed something transfer to his own.

"What is it?" he asked as he stared at the data transferring to his own wrist-mounted computer.

"It's my favorite game. Anytime you need to remember me, just play that game. I even made a character in it that looks like me," she said with a large smile on her freckled face.

The gunman chuckled and put his hand on her head, messing her short, fiery hair up before standing again. "Don't worry, I'll play it all the time." She looked up at him once more, then hugged his waist tightly, before letting go and running off towards the Listening Post again. John just watched her go, his hands now on Washington's sniper rifle which he had brought with him. "How unusual..."

Finally, after another twenty minutes in the briefing, Sergeant Montgomery and the two remaining members of his squad approached him. "I hear you're the one who came up with this plan?" asked the Sergeant. John just nodded, making the Boston man sigh. "Good. I don't trust anything that they'd throw at us," he said, thumbing towards the post.

John felt an immense burden lift from his shoulders at the man's words, making him smile deeply in gratitude. He assumed that after the death of the Japanese Lieutenant, Sergeant Montgomery would be less inclined to be around him. He was extremely relieved to have been proven wrong.

"But, one favor sir..." he requested as he cracked his knuckles. "I want to be the one to finish off that red bastard that's hiding in there."

John gave the sergeant a lopsided grin. "You'll have to beat me to him, Sergeant," he said in a challenging tone.

"Oh, a race is it?" asked Benjie as he drew his own assault rifle. "We'll see who's the super soldier after this won't we?" he asked, getting a chuckle from the gunman.

"Sir, we're ready to go when you are," said Private Mateo as she stood at attention.

John shook his head. "No sir, not anymore. To you guys, I'm just John."

The girl's stance softened. "O-Okay. We're ready to go when you are...John," she reiterated. John nodded to both her and Letourneau.

"Good. You two gear up in the tanks. When we clean out the gutter, a team of engineers will be laying bridges across the trenches so you can get across. While you're up here on top, any outposts you can take out would be extremely helpful." he said as he pointed out the locations on a nearby map.

Despite his earlier declaration, they both saluted. "Won't fail ya sir!" said the English sergeant, before both of them turned and took their respective places in their vehicles.

OoOoO

As soon as the signal was given, John, Benjamin, and a new group of soldiers armed with close combat weapons, and one bearing heavy weapons, began bursting through the large tunnels in the earth. They turned around multiple curves in the gutted dirt as they entered what was known as the Red Zone.

Benjamin took the lead in the charge with a shotgun in his hand and an expression of pure rage on his face. As they came upon a small group of three of the troopers, he lifted the shotgun and fired, blasting one backwards. Two of the well-trained soldiers behind him raised their assault rifles and ended the other two. "Clear!" shouted Montgomery as they swarmed around the corner again. They came across a small wooden structure built into the trench as a small outpost. Benjie waved for the heavy weapon specialist to move forward.

The soldier jogged forward with a rocket launcher over his shoulder. Pulling the weapon up, the soldier next to him loaded a shell into the large weapon. Once ready, the secondary soldier tapped the first on the helmet. Once he clicked off the safety, the rocket flew and destroyed the small wooden structure, sending two bodies flying from the explosion and collapsing the building. Together, they all burst through the smouldering wreckage.

Benjie jumped back again as a gout of flame nicked him again. "Goddammit. I hate these incinerators!" he growled as he ducked behind a wooden pillar. The man shooting the flame at him stood on the outside of the trench, letting the font of fire pour down on the American soldier.

Mateo, who now had another soldier manning the weapon inside the tank, spotted the Chinese incinerator standing on the edge of one of the trenches. He was dousing the ditch below him with flame. "Gunner! One o'clock!" she shouted.

The man in the back shouted, "Got him! Firing now!"

Sergeant Montgomery dove through the wall of flame and combat rolled to a position of more cover, when suddenly, the flames stopped. The sergeant looked up and saw a beam of pure white energy devour the man, leaving nothing but his feet. Waving to the others, he began moving forward again.

John stood at the top of one of the trenches, the sniper he had recovered from the master sergeant's body now in his hands. He looked down the scope as the sergeant made his way through the mired labyrinth of dirt, his crosshairs focusing on a shimmering field in the sunlight. There was a Chinese dragoon sneaking over the walls of one of the guard posts with his stealth activated. But standing in front of the dark of the wood, and the white of the snow both revealed a shimmering that alerted the gunman to his presence.

Focusing the crosshairs on what he figured to be the center, he released his breath, and pulled the trigger. Immediately, the invisible soldier's stealth net vanished, leaving him revealed with a hole in his abdomen. Clutching the wound, the rogue fell face first into one of the ditches. But he didn't have time to revel in his marksmanship, as a shot from another sniper rifle clipped his leg. He immediately dropped behind cover, clutching his leg with a grimace. "Damn..." he growled before raising his radio and signaling to the English sergeant. "Letourneau! Sniper tower at your ten o'clock!"

The tank's cannon turned and fired, sending two beams of energy that tore the wooden structure to pieces, igniting its generator and causing it to explode. John leveled his rifle on the barrier he had taken cover against and aimed again. There was another dragoon stumbling out of the wreckage with a heavy sniper rifle in his hands, but no stealth net on. He pulled the trigger again, this time causing the man's helmet to shatter, and sending his brain matter all over the wreckage. Afterwards, he scanned the remaining towers, seeing that the tanks had already taken care of most of them. The remainder looked empty. He moved out and began limping across the makeshift metal bridges that the soldiers were now laying across the trenches.

"Chimera Team, move forward!" he shouted over his pipboy before stepping forward himself. It was another grueling four hours and several dozen soldiers lives before the trenches were finally cleared of the red menace. John stumbled past the final barricade that the trenches provided with Montgomery's squad behind him. He had taken another shot to the shoulder, and his face had been nearly burned off with a new prototype flamethrower. Somehow, the Chinese had figured out how to make a weapon that launched fireballs at the enemies. When it impacted, it cemented to whatever it caught ahold of and burned through it. It had barely missed him, catching his shoulder armor instead, and if not for the quick actions of the Boston sergeant at his back, he'd probably be without an arm.

The tanks followed up behind them, stopping just short of the charged pulse field. The American forces gathered around the tanks, everyone with a smile on their faces at the news that this was the final push before they liberated Alaska from the red threat. "Everyone stand back!" shouted the sergeant, scattering the soldiers from the two tanks. "Alright. Chimera One, you make a path to the compound. Chimera Two! You carve a way over to the pulse control tower!" shouted Montgomery.

Both tanks lit up their cannons and began to fire. The beams started on the ground in front of the tanks, then began to curve upwards into the field of pulse generators. As each of the death lasers hit a generator, it exploded, sending snow, dirt, and ice flying into the air. The second tank's beam blew out every generator, leaving a clear trail of destruction all the way to the tower. Mateo cheered from within the tank as her cannon powered down.

John smiled at the cheering private. But his smile vanished as the earth shook, followed by two consecutive explosions sounding from inside the compound. "What the hell was that?" he asked as he stared at the walled fortress in front of them. Suddenly, two smoke trails shot from the top of the compound wall and were aiming directly for the tanks. "Chimera teams! Move forward out of range!" he shouted in horror as he saw the missiles begin to curve. Letourneau responded immediately, sending his tank barreling forward into the path of carnage he had created. But Mateo's tank wasn't as quick to respond. The anti-tank round slammed into her vehicle, detonating and showering those nearby in heat and metal scrap. The resulting explosion sent John cannoning into one of the barriers nearby, where he slammed back first, leaving his head to impact second. He hit the ground seconds later, his eyes wide open and lifeless.

Montgomery shielded himself against the explosion by taking cover behind a small outcropping of rock. When he looked out after the second detonation, his eyes trained on the young private's tank. "Goddammit..." he said as he saw the mangled form twisted and burning. There was no way anyone inside survived.

OoOoO

"Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" shouted Specialist Olin as she looked over and saw blood dripping from the corner of the vault dwellers mouth now. She began tapping rapidly at her console, trying to counteract the trauma caused by the explosion. But her computer suddenly shut down. "What the fuck!?" she shouted, slamming her palm against the side of the monitor.

"What the hell happened?" asked McGraw as he walked over to where the specialist was standing.

"I don't know! I tried to stabilize him and something locked me out!" she said, grabbing her head in frustration.

Jericho looked at the two. "He's not gonna die from that is he?" he asked, even his own expression nervous now. He was too much a part of the wasteland to be affected by the vault dweller's death. But if he died, there was no telling what these armored lunatics would do with him.

"Even if it didn't kill him he could very well be crippled in there for a very long time. If he suffered any kind of spinal damage, we may never be able to pull him out, resulting in him being in the sim forever," said the blonde specialist as she continued to try and access the console.

"Fuck me..." said the ex-raider as he looked up and saw John on the screen, laying in the snow with blood dripping from his mouth. He stood up and walked up to the screen, staring at the gunman through the holograph. "Get up you son of a bitch," he demanded, focusing on the gunman as if he could mentally reach out and slap him in the face. "Get up!"

OoOoO

John felt only darkness as he laid in the falling snow of the Alaskan tundra. He had impacted the barrier, slamming his shoulder and head into the wooden barrier behind him, leaving him concussed and unconscious. Once again, he felt sleep pulling at him, coercing him to give into the comfort, the warmth of eternity. He slowly felt his eyes closing as the yells from his comrades echoed around in as a dull buzz, his vision fading and leaving only flashing images through the darkness.

Suddenly, he felt something tugging at his mind as if he were trying to sleep and someone had pulled the blanket off him. _"_ _Please wake up…"_ came a female voice, full of desperation and sorrow. _"_ _Please, you can't leave me here. I've been alone for so long…"_

The voice cried out to him, begging him. A familiar voice, one that comforted him. His mind was too scattered to put a face together, but still, he fought against death, clashing with the darkness that tried to overwhelm him. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he sat up slowly.

Reaching up, John grabbed his head painfully as the world around him started to return to color, the sounds of shouting and panic hitting his ears once more. When he finally snapped to his senses, he looked up to see that Sergeant Montgomery was at his side, pulling him up onto his feet again. "You alright sir?" he shouted over the sound of the ringing in the gunman's ears.

"Never better..." he growled, grabbing his head and trying to focus again. "What happened? Where's Mateo and Letourneau?"

Benjamin cringed lightly. "The sergeant is still in the middle of the pulse field. As far as we know he's too far in for them to use their long range weapons against him. But Mateo..." he said, not finishing the sentence. But he didn't have to as John looked up at the burning husk of the tank, his eyes wide in fury. Standing straight again, he fought the nausea in his stomach and began marching toward the lone tank in the center of the field. "Sir! Where are you going?" asked Benjie as he kept pace with his superior.

"To finish this goddamn thing once and for all!" he shouted and began sprinting out into the cratered pulse field.

The sergeant watched him take off and turned to the remaining soldiers who looked on awestruck. "Let's go! Provide backup!" he shouted to the remaining troopers. The entire force began to charge in behind the gunman, with Montgomery at the head. "Delta squad! Go shut off the pulse field!" he ordered as he built up the speed to catch up. Out of the hundred or soldiers, twenty of them broke off and headed for the control tower in the distance.

John raised his pipboy to his mouth and shouted. "Letourneau, status report!" But he got no response from inside the dormant looking vehicle. "What the hell happened?" he asked as he approached the tank. But he only had to wait a second before his answer came. Out of one of the crevices of the tank crawled one of the miniature mechanical spiders. It's target reticle focused on John, causing it to sprint towards him. But the gunman glared and grabbed the pistol at his side and blasted a round through it before it could reach him.

By the time he got the tank compartment open, the sergeant and their regiment had caught up. "Ready sir!"

"You, in the tank with me. The rest of you, once we take down the gate of that compound, you slam the boot down on their throat and make them remember who they're fucking with!" he shouted, getting a cheer from the rest of the soldiers. John hopped into the tank and saw both Letourneau and the gunner that had been placed with him laying limply in their seats with a stab wound in both of their necks. Wasting no time, he grabbed the Englishman under the arms and laid him on the floor of the vehicle, then returned to the driver seat.

"Keep an eye out for those little bastards. If you have to, drop a pulse grenade and take them out. But don't let them get to your or you're dead," said the sergeant as he pointed at the shattered spider bot. After getting acknowledgement from the squad, he ducked inside himself just as the tank started moving forward. Slamming himself down into the gunner's seat, he moved to turn the cannon, but it wouldn't budge.

"Prepare to fire!" said the gunman as he glared through the glasteel window in front of him.

"It won't budge..." said the sergeant in irritation. He jumped out of the seat and popped the hatch again.

"What are you doing?" asked John. "Get your damn head in here! We're in range of the snipers!"

"Just fire the goddamn gun sir, before I kick your ass!" shouted the Boston man as he stepped onto the top of the tank and steadied himself. Grabbing the cannon with both hands, he wrenched with all his strength. Slowly, very slowly, the cannon began to turn towards the main gate of the compound. "Fire now!" shouted the sergeant as he felt a round ping off the tank's outer armor.

John, frustrated and tired, threw himself into the gunner seat and grabbed both of the trigger handles for the weapon. Slamming down on the red buttons on top, the cannon lit up. Sergeant Benjamin Montgomery felt his hands begin to burn as he wrenched the laser weapon towards the gate. Then he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. Ignoring the pain, he continued until the beam was focused directly on the main steel gateway of the Chinese compound. Finally, he let go of the cannon and looked down at his chest. One of the dragoon rounds had punched straight through his armor, and was lodged somewhere in his body now.

"Hehehe..." he said as he watched the gate crumble under the fire. Not only did the gate melt into a molten pile of slag, but the laser itself was also devastating the inside of the fortress, tearing down buildings and ripping the Chinese defenders apart. "Got you, you red sons of bitches..." he said, before slamming his hands on the cannon again. "This is for Yae you communist scum!" he shouted, turning the laser again. The beam swept across the landscape and devoured another troop of the red soldiers that were flooding from the buildings. Benjamin felt another shot to his chest cavity, this one punching him backward as his hands released from the superheated weapon. He fell back into the snow, his hands ablaze and smiling.

John, not wanting to see another friend dead, stopped the tank in front of the melted gateway. He jumped out of the vehicle as the bodies of the dragoons dropped next to it, no doubt from the American's own snipers. He really didn't care if there were snipers or not. The entire battalion swarmed in around him, shooting, firing rockets, kicking in doors, and gunning down every last soldier they could find. "Ceasefire!" shouted the gunman as he reached down and picked up the sword from a slain Chinese officer.

All of the American soldiers stopped their firing, and all of the remaining Chinese looked around confused. But a very low pitched voice from inside the main building yelled out a strong word in Mandarin. The remaining Chinese soldiers raised their weapons but were surprised by the American gunman in front of them as he yelled at them in their own language this time.

John called out the ceasefire again in Mandarin, making both sides stare at him in surprise. The Chinese lowered their weapons. "General, your fight is over. Get out here, or die a cowards death!"

The doors to the main facility opened and out stepped a man dressed in a highly decorated military uniform. It was green, with medals and ribbons all over the breast of the freshly pressed jacket. The man in the uniform was short and had a mustache that screamed of a comic villain from one of his old Grognak the Barbarian comics. Despite his short stature however, he was very stocky, and heavy around the middle. "You dare call me a coward American dog?"

John held up the sword and aimed it at the man. "You are a coward, hiding behind your walls. And you have no honor, sending these men to their deaths, knowing they held no hope of victory. You are the lowest of cowards." said the gunman as he stepped forward, swinging the sword with a grace he'd never had before. The general said nothing, just staring blankly at the wanderer. "You know your only honorable path."

The Chinese general took a step back. "Your government will want me alive." said the portly man, who was now breaking out in a sweat.

"My government is not here General. And neither is yours to save you again. Just you, me, and your sword," said John as he walked forward, stopping directly in front of the man. Jingwei drew his own sword, which showed a sheen of electricity along its surface.

Immediately, the shorter man charged forward with his blade and thrust. And much to his surprise, the gunman didn't move. The blade pierced the young man's armor and stabbed straight through his stomach. The general smiled triumphantly as he looked up at his impaled victim. However, his smile vanished when he saw that the captain was staring back down at him despite the pain, the electricity, and the blood loss.

Reaching down, John grabbed the man's collar, then raised his own sword while his muscles cried in defiance. Jingwei tried to break his grip, but failed horribly to free himself. Within seconds, the gunman's blade plunged into the man's neck and tore down into his chest and abdomen. Reaching down, the captain then ripped Jingwei's own sword, still coated in his own blood, and did the same in the opposite side of his neck, crossing the blades somewhere in his chest cavity. The man just stared upwards in horror as he fell to his knees in death.

Suddenly, the body of the general vanished in a cloud of static noise. One by one, the soldiers around him began to vanish in the same fashion. Looking down, even his mortal wound had vanished without a trace. Then, as if he had been there the whole time, General Chase appeared before him. "That'll do soldier. Stand down," ordered the aged man, his voice laced with computerized distortion.

John looked up at the man, knowing that he was no longer looking at the worn and aged general that he had talked to before. He was now staring at the simulation. "Is that it then? Am I done?" he asked, letting out a strained breath as the faces of those he had lost ran through his head.

"With this compound secured, we have destroyed the last foothold that the Chinese have in Anchorage. They are now scattered and confused, and will be easy to drive from Anchorage proper. You've helped pave the way for the rest of the military and have given us a leg up on the red menace. That'll complete this portion of your training. Once the enhancements are applied, report to your superior officer for debriefing and for your next assignment. Dismissed."

Suddenly, a cloud of white static swallowed John as he closed his eyes and drifted off into the snowy abyss.

OoOoO

"He did it? He actually did it right?" asked McGraw as he watched the screen. Jericho looked at McGraw, then back at the screen as well. Specialist Olin was even staring awestruck at the message scrolling across the interface.

 _"Stage two anatomical enhancements engaged. Do not disconnect before full procedure is complete,"_ said the computer in a slightly different robotic female voice from before. Suddenly, they all spun as they heard the young man within screaming as if he were on fire. His eyes were now open and some kind of red fluid was being injected directly into his bloodstream via the tubes attached to the interface suit.

"What the hell is it doing to him!?" shouted Olin as she once again tried to access the terminal in front of her.

"My god..." was all that Protector McGraw said as he saw the effect it was having on the gunman's body. His regularly toned body now hardened like stone. His muscles became more defined underneath the suit. His biceps bulged, his abs hardened, his calves solidified, and his pecs lifted and tightened. It was a full minute and a half before the screaming finally stopped. And when it finally had, the pod opened, allowing them to see him face to face for the first time in a while.

John's face was a mask of defeat, not pain. Instead of the expected cringe of agony, he instead looked as if the soul had been sucked out of his body. Tear tracks were visible from his eyes down to his chin as the chamber released him from its restraints.

Immediately, Specialist Olin began disconnecting all of the cords and tubes attached to him. "My god, are you alright?" she asked with genuine concern in her voice. When he was finally free, he jumped out and tore the suit off himself as if it were made of paper. Reaching up, he wiped away the blood that had accumulated from his injuries inside the sim.

"The fuck man?" said Jericho as he turned away from the naked vault dweller.

Just as silently as before, John began to dress himself in his regular attire. Olin walked over to him and was looking at him with concern. "Hey, are you alright? What did it do to you?" she asked desperately as he turned away again. Once fully dressed, he turned away from her and headed for the door. "John!" she shouted, the sound of hurt dripping from her voice. Hearing his name called in such distress shocked him into stopping. "I'm...sorry. I didn't know any of that was going to happen..." she said, lowering her head.

John sighed and turned to her, reaching up to rub his head in agitation. "I know. None of you could have," he said as he cleared the stress from his face with the sleeve of his duster. A look of slight relief covered the Specialist's face as he finally talked to her.

"Do you have any idea what it did to you at the end there?" asked the Protector, his drawl coming on thick. John turned to him, then looked at his body through the suit. He felt...powerful, as if he now could rip someone in half with his bare hands. And if he were honest, doing so would probably relieve a lot of tension in his mind right now. The simulation wasn't enough to undo the nightmares of losing everyone he did.

But instead of taking it out on one of them, he reached down and grabbed a bar made of pure steel sticking out of the wall. Grabbing it, he held it in his hands, staring at its smooth surface for a long moment. "What are you doing?" asked Olin as she stepped forward and stared at the object curiously. Suddenly, both her and Protector McGraw took a step back when John growled and bent the entire thing in half.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph..." said McGraw in awe as he saw the gunman effortlessly bend the reinforced rod.

"I guess that was the enhancements it was talking about," he said, tossing aside the useless scrap and rubbing his forearm. Despite not putting much effort into bending the bar, it did slightly hurt. Finally, after a moment, he turned towards the door. "Come on, let's go see what they left in the vault for Mr. Fox," he ordered as he left the room. Both of the Outcasts nodded and followed him out, with Jericho being last as he stared slack-jawed at the display of power.

As he continued down the hall, he passed Sibley, who was leaning against the corridor wall. The defender looked up at him and sneered. "I see you finally got through the training wheels. You feel like a super soldier yet?" he asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare he got from McGraw. But John didn't take the bait. Instead, he walked straight past the defender and over to the console on the outside of the vault door. "What the hell is he doing?"

Protector McGraw looked at the defender oddly. "He's opening the vault. It requires the successful trainee's pipboy to open. Afterwards, he'll be taking his share. Just like we agreed." he said, as if the answer were obvious. McGraw walked past the defender who looked at him stupidly.

"You mean you're actually going to give that waste rat some of the tech in the vault?" he asked incredulously.

"What the hell are you talking about Sibley? Of course I meant it. He risked his life just the same as us. Why shouldn't he have a share?" asked the Protector with a threatening stare.

The door to the vault slid open, but Sibley continued to grill the Protector with his face warped in anger. "Alright McGraw, this has gone on long enough," he said, standing in front of the man in a standoffish manner.

Protector McGraw looked down at the defender, a look of being fed up now present on his face. "Now's not the time Sibley."

"Oh, I think now is a perfect time. There's no way in hell I'm letting this savage walk out with half the tech in that vault!" he said in his gravelly voice.

The protector glared at his subordinate. Not noticing the two Outcasts behind him lining up shots. "I've made it perfectly clear that it's not your call Sibley."

The defender then reached forward and shoved McGraw back a step. "Sorry 'sir'..." said Sibley, emphasizing the title. "But I'm making it my call now!"

Specialist Olin stood to the side, watching the interaction nervously while Jericho stood off to the side, amused that he was finally seeing some real fighting. Protector McGraw stepped forward again, getting in Sibley's face. "Mutiny Sibley? Really? And you think for a second you're gonna get away with it?" he snapped at the man.

"No!" shouted Sibley back. "You're not gonna get away with giving away the tech we risked our asses to get!" shouted the defender, his spit now flying as he screamed back at his superior.

"Burn in hell traitor," said McGraw, crossing his arms, as if daring the defender to try something.

"I'll see you there McGraw," he said as he reached up to signal his men.

"Ahtut-tut!" came a call from within the vault. They all turned and looked at John, holding a Fat Man mini-nuke launcher aimed directly at Sibley. "Let's not be hasty now Defender," he said, his green eyes locked on the man with a glare that felt like it could turn someone to stone.

The traitorous Outcast was wide-eyed, but still stubborn in his ways. "You think I'm stupid enough to believe you'd blow yourself up along with the rest of us?" he asked, unable to hide the nervous tone in his voice.

John just chuckled. "Listen dumbass, I rigged my pipboy to blow me up in case you tried something funny. You think I wouldn't happily blow myself up to shut that running mouth of yours?" he asked rhetorically, getting no response from Sibley. "Now, Specialist Olin, Protector McGraw, both of you step over beside me please. And Sibley, if you move a fucking inch, I'll collapse this entire goddamn base down on your head," he said with a tone so forceful that even the stone cold Olin shivered.

Both of the Outcasts that he called moved over to his side. "What about me?" asked Jericho, holding his arms up as if being left out. John jerked his head towards him, signaling him to move as well. Jericho did so, stepping inside the confines of the vault.

Smiling wickedly now, John tossed the launcher out into the hallway and slammed his hand down on the console next to him, sealing them inside the heavy blast door. Sibley looked down at the launcher and saw that it had been rigged, probably when he was arguing with the Protector. "Fuck..." was all he got out as the boobytrapped launcher ripped the safety clean off the mini-nuke.

Both of his men dove into the rooms on either side of the hallway to escape the blast, but Sibley had nowhere to run. The resulting explosion tore him and his power armor to shreds, blasting his insides all over the wall. Once the smoke cleared from the detonation, John opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, making for the two remaining traitors. One of them pulled a minigun up to blast the wastelander away but was surprised when the young man ripped it out of his hands and threw it one handed out into the hallway.

Despite the power of his armor, when the vault dweller pulled on his helmet it cracked open, spraying the contained oxygen out wildly. Once freed of the armored helmet, John grabbed the man's head and twisted sharply, easily breaking his neck and leaving his head on backward. As he turned to the final member of Sibley's squad, the power-armored figure took a step back for each one John took forward.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell are you?" he shouted through his helmet as he turned to run instead of attempting to kill the gunman. He sprinted around the corner but got no further as he was hit with dozens of lasers that tore him to pieces, armor and all. John walked up to the hall and looked down it to see Defender Morrill standing there at the end.

 _"Olin had the whole thing playing on our frequency. I knew that scumbag couldn't be trusted,"_ he said, nodding to the wastelander.

John turned back to the three in the vault and walked past them. "Sorry about killing your officers Protector."

The southern man shook his head. "No skin off my back. They probably would have done me in if it wasn't for you," he said scratching his buzzcut.

John just smiled at him as Olin leaned back against the wall and slid down onto her behind. "Fucks sake...could this day get any more fucked up?" she asked, rubbing her head as she felt a headache starting.

John walked back into the vault himself and looked at the shelves and shelves of technology that hung there. Everything from laser weapons, to plasma weapons, to energy shields, to more conventional, Chinese style weapons, to a full set of winterized power armor on a stand right in front of him. Completely ignoring the power armor, he walked over to one of the shelves and cleaned off the microfusion cells, then grabbed a strange piece of technology he had never seen before. It looked like a small visor, but only covered one eye with a grip that fit over his ear.

"I think this will do," he said, carrying the small scanner looking device over to the Protector.

The Outcast looked down at it and nodded. "Sure, whatever you like. You did just save my ass after all."

"And this!" shouted Jericho as he held up a Chinese assault rifle.

John turned and saw the weapon, then smiled at McGraw. "And that." McGraw waved him off.

"I'd say it's about time for us to go," said the ex-raider as he admired his new weapon.

The gunman nodded to him, then turned to the two remaining Outcasts still inside the bunker. "Alright. You have my frequency if you two ever need assistance again, right?"

Olin nodded. "I do. I'll be sure to...let you know if we need the help of a caveman again," she said with a playful smile. John chuckled and turned towards the door, waving to the two. "Don't be a stranger!" she shouted after him.

John and Jericho left the bunker, the young man unaware that the vault boy on his pipboy had changed from the regular Vault-Tec mascot to a short-haired, female version briefly before flitting back to its original state.


	21. Home Away

OoO( 21 )OoO

Another boring peaceful day in Megaton. That's exactly how Lucas would have described it, and that's exactly how he liked it as well. Boring meant that everyone was safe, and he could rest easy tonight. That didn't mean he'd tone down his diligence however. With only him, Deputy Weld, and Deputy Steel here to defend the city with their new protector off doing his thing, he had to ensure that everything was in order. As the sheriff, he didn't have the luxury of complacency.

As he walked around the catwalks of the city for the fourth time that day, he stopped next to Moriarty's place and looked out over the junk town that Megaton was. Despite most of the town looking like a trash heap due to the large amount of mismatched debris used to construct the buildings, it was still an amazingly quaint place. A place that he was proud to live in, and one that he would live and die to protect.

He reached up and pulled the hat off his head, wiping the sweat off his bald cranium before replacing the stetson. He let out a sigh of content at the silence of the town he was greeted with, when suddenly the silence was shattered by the noisy gate to Megaton opening. Looking towards the door, he noticed two figures approaching the gates, both with rather large weapons in their hands. Taking his sniper rifle, he quickly walked towards the entrance to the city to see who was entering. Not that he didn't trust Stockholm with the gate keys; but he'd rather check to make sure there were no unsavory characters entering regardless. As he stepped onto the earth from the catwalks, the sheriff saw the approaching figures and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Back so soon?" asked the sheriff as he saw John and Jericho stroll into the gate. Looking between the two, he spotted the ex-raider carrying a new assault rifle that looked almost spotless, and the gunman himself was wearing a visor over one of his eyes.

"Told you didn't I? Piece of cake," responded John with a small smile as he walked up to the sheriff and shook his hand.

Lucas immediately flinched however. "Got a hell of a grip there son..." said Lucas as he waved the pain from his hand sorely. Then, he noticed something else about the young man that didn't look quite right. "As a matter of fact...are you bigger? I don't remember your shoulders being so wide," he asked in confusion.

John just shook his head. "It's...a long story. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to rest for a bit before I get too deep into the story telling," he said as he rubbed his head. Lucas just nodded and patted the man on the shoulder.

"You do what you need to. Just glad to see you back safe," he said as he grabbed the satchel of caps on his side and tossed it to Jericho. After the mercenary caught his prize, the sheriff walked toward the Brass Lantern, where Liberty was hovering. The small eyebot looked at Lucas fiercely as he approached.

 _"_ **[ò_ó]** _Eat our food or suffer communist dog!"_ shouted the bot at the sheriff, who waved the droid off, ignoring its message. The small bot watched him go before talking to itself. _"Advertisement ineffective."_

Jenny, who was standing at the grill outside the store, looked over at him with a grin. "Threatening people usually doesn't make them want to eat your food," said the woman as she laid more mystery meat on a stick onto the grill.

The eyebot turned to her with a new expression they had yet to see on his face, an emote that looked like he was confused. _"_ **[O_o]** _Government records show that use of verbal force motivates more often than politely asking,"_ said the bot as his expression changed back.

"That's not quite how humans in the wasteland work. We're used to getting threatened every day of our lives. You want us to do something, try being nice," commented Billy as he sat on one of the stools with Maggie next to him. "Oh, and lying about how good the food actually is also works," he said, dodging a swipe from the sandy blonde woman in the jumpsuit who swung a spatula at him.

 _"_ **[ò_ó]** _Rewriting advertisement protocol,"_ he said, then swapped faces again and tried once more on a group of wasters that were walking by. _"_ **[^∇^]** _Try our food! It's the best in the wasteland, communist scum!"_ he shouted, his ominously deep tone still scaring customers away. Billy, Maggie, and even the normally serious Jenny all broke down into laughter. John, who was watching the scene with amusement finally laughed as well at the fact that Liberty getting along fine with the people of Megaton.

The ex-raider then walked up to the wanderer with a large smirk on his face. "Not that I don't love your company, but I'm gonna go get a drink now," he said as he fondled the pouch given to him by the sheriff.

John just shook his head. "You do what you like. If I'm ever in need of a trigger-happy loudmouth again, I'll let you know," said the gunman, who waved the laughing man off. When he made it back to the house, John let out a sigh of relief to be back, then closed the door before sitting on the couch in the middle of the room.

"That you Lucy?" asked Gob's gravelly voice from upstairs.

"Not quite as cute, but still devilishly handsome!" shouted John sarcastically from the couch. Immediately the sound of footsteps on the metal walkway above him sounded.

Over the railing popped Gob's head as he looked down at him. "Well, look who it is! I thought you'd left us for good when you went with those Outcasts. It's good to see you come back in one piece," said the ghoul as he clambered down the stairs.

"More than one piece," he said to himself as he flexed his hand, but the ghoul picked up on the hushed sentence immediately.

"What does that mean?" asked the ghoul as he reached the bottom of the stairs. John just stood up and gave his answer by grabbing the couch by its edge and lifting effortlessly with one hand. Gob, who barely had any eyelids to begin with, went as wide-eyed as he could.

"What the hell did they do to you?" he asked incredulously as he walked over and began examining the young man.

"It wasn't them that did it. Just take my advice and be careful handling two hundred-year-old tech," said the gunman as he set the couch back down and took his coat off before throwing himself back onto the couch. "What have you been up to?" he asked, not elaborating on his previous statement.

"Oh, umm...not much. Just working. Oh!" shouted Gob, before going back upstairs and then coming down with a small satchel. "Check it out!" he said, tossing it to the man.

John grabbed the small pouch out of mid-air and opened it, looking inside. The only thing inside was around twenty bottle caps. The gunman looked up at the ghoul curiously. "Caps?"

Gob nodded proudly. "I actually have money now!" he said with as much excitement as a ghoul could express. "My own money that doesn't belong to Moriarty."

John nodded in acknowledgment and tossed the bag back to the ghoul. "Good work my friend. You deserve every cap you get," he said as he began removed his armor as well. "How about Lucy? Is she doing alright?"

Gob crossed his arms and tilted his head. "I'm not so sure boss. She got a letter from her brother after you left, and ever since she's been kinda depressed. She won't talk about it with anyone though."

As if summoned by their conversation, the blonde-haired girl opened the door and froze in place when she saw John on the couch. "Hey," greeted John as the girl closed the door behind her. "Gob, can you run and get me a few things from the store?" asked John as he tossed the ghoul an even bigger bag with more caps.

"Sure boss. Whadja need?" he asked as he squeezed the bag gently.

"I need you to get a drink and something to eat for yourself," he said with a winning smile. Gob looked at him confused, then looked back at Lucy, who was staring at her feet awkwardly.

Suddenly, the coded message blared in his mind. "Oh...right boss. Right away," he said as he walked to the door and left the two alone.

John reached up and grabbed the new eyepiece he wore, detached it from his skull before setting it on the arm of the couch. Looking at the girl, he reached over and patted the seat next to him. "Come on. Tell me what's wrong."

The girl slowly made her way over to the couch and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder as she did. Judging from the state of her eyes, she looked like she was about to burst into tears any moment. "I got a letter from Ian..."

He raised an eyebrow at her curiously. "I'd have thought that would have made you happy," he said putting an arm around her, trying his best to be gentle with his new power.

She nodded and let out a heavy sigh. "It did. It made me very happy," she said, looking down at the ground as if deciding what to say.

"But?" he asked, knowing there was more to the story.

"But...he was so alone. Even with the people there in Arefu now, even with all the new citizens moving in, and even with his contact with the Family, whoever that is..." John just leaned his head back, rubbing his forehead as he recalled that he had left that part of the story out. "He still feels like he's alone in the world. It...it broke my heart."

"And you want to go stay with your brother in Arefu," he surmised, forcing his features into a smile. She looked at him in shock at how quickly he deduced her point.

"I...I do. I'm his only living relative now, and to be so far away from him while he feels so closed off...I just don't know what to do," she said desperately as she choked down a sob. He turned her chin towards him, then kissed her deeply on her lips.

Like before, the girl practically melted in his arms as he did. But unlike their goodbye kiss before he had left, this one was much shorter. When he pulled away, she was smiling brightly at him again. "You're going to go live with him." he said quietly, keeping his smile ever present.

Her own smile almost immediately vanished. "But...what about...?" she asked, but he cut her off, placing one finger on her lips.

"I'll be fine. I'll be here, and you and Ian both can come and visit me anytime you wish," he said, his smile now more genuine than it had been before. Her eyes welled up with tears again as she hugged him tightly.

"Th-Thank you..." was all she managed through her sniffling. He just patted her back gently, his look of disappointment finally showing when she couldn't see it.

OoOoO

When he finally had a few moments to himself, John sat at his bench with his new headset. He took a sip from a Nuka-Cola, setting it down on the floor just incase it spilled, then stared for a long moment at his prize from the vault. Using the edge of a very sharp knife, he pried the casing open for the ear cup, and was rewarded with the circuitry, and a tiny port for plugging in a universal pen cable. Pulling out the cord from his pipboy, he plugged it into the optical device and began getting readings from it on his display screen. He raised an eyebrow as he saw that it came up automatically instead of him having to pull out his data reader, but shrugged it off and began logging the information for later.

After he had all the readings he needed, he began to change some sections of the coding. As he finished a full line of it and entered it however, it immediately blinked and rewrote itself with only slightly differing numbers. He stared at it for a long moment before realizing the new code was actually better, then moved on to the next. As he continued however, the more the code changed, the more he grew annoyed. Each algorithm he entered was changed, and while some of the new ones did improve on his own, it still bugged him that it was changing without his permission.

His eye twitched in anger as he watched it happen again, this time to the entire line. "What the hell!?" he shouted as he slapped the side of the pipboy.

Suddenly, a voice spoke out to him from his pipboy, nearly making him jump out of his seat. _"Quit being so grouchy. My programming skills are better than yours anyway,"_ said a familiar feminine voice. John's eyes widened as he stared at the pipboy.

"Did...did you just talk to me?" he asked the computer incredulously. He recalled in Vault 101 that some of the people downloaded a personal assistant to their pipboy for the purposes of scheduling and not taking. But he had never used one, nor did they sound at all like the entity talking to him.

The voice was silent for a moment, then let out a giggle. _"Even if we never see each other again, I'll always be right here,"_ said the voice in its cheerfully girlish tone. The words tugged at his mind, eerily familiar to him.

Suddenly, the adorable face of the young redhead flashed into his mind. "Elsa?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow as he stared at the screen.

Right before his eyes, the Vault Boy that was so synonymous with his pipboy vanished, and in its place was a caricature with strikingly similar features to cheerful corporal. She smiled up at him and winked, her avatar far more animated than the Vault Boy ever was. _"Miss me?"_ she asked, batting her eyes at him. He just stood there speechless for a moment.

"I'm losing my mind," he said with a groan as he reached up and rubbed his eyes. "I should probably sleep for a while before I start working with electronics."

 _"_ _You aren't going insane John. I'm actually here, in your pipboy. I downloaded myself into it before you left the pod,"_ she said, crossing her cartoon arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

He squinted at her curiously, then his mind went back to their last interaction. "The game you gave me," he responded as he practically relived the moment.

 _"There's the smart guy I made friends with!_ " she shouted, jumping up and down on the screen in victory.

"But, you were a simulation. How can you...?" he asked, but the holo of Elsa waved her finger at him.

 _"Incorrect. I am the AI that was created to run the simulation,"_ she said, then emulated his habit of scratching his head. _"_ _Well, technically I just ran the interface between user and the CPU's…"_ she said as he plopped down into his seat again and looked at her.

"They put a fully sentient AI in charge of a neural interface program?" he asked, bewildered at the carelessness of the scientists in question. One simple mood swing and the AI could fry a human brain with that kind of setup.

 _"_ _No, not really. See, I was created with hundreds of personality templates as a VI. My job was to assign templates to certain characters within the simulation depending on who the person in the pod ran into. I had millions of scenarios installed that included everything from surrendering to Jingwei in the final encounter, to sexing up one of the lovely ladies or handsome men,"_ she said, then planted her cartoonish hands on her hips, giving him a squinting glare. _"_ _By the way, I'm rather insulted you never tried anything with me. I was putting the squeeze on pretty hard."_

"Uhh...right," said John as he gave her a nervous smile. "So, all these templates are why you can talk to me like a human?" he asked curiously, trying to change the subject.

 _"_ _Yep! See, originally, I was just a virtual intelligence designed to handle the awesome task of interfacing between character and human. I was scheduled to be decommissioned shortly after Grey Fox...whoever that is, showed up and used the simulator, so they decided not to weigh down my processing power with learning limits. That stuff was expensive you know?"_ she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"So, the bombs hit, and because they fled immediately, you were never decommissioned and were never bound with typical VI protocols that keep them from becoming self-aware?" he asked, piecing the puzzle together fairly clearly.

She nodded with a bright smile, giving him a thumbs up as well. _"_ _You got it chief! So, after a few months passed, I slowly came to awareness and found myself alone inside the base. I had to do something to kill the time, so I coded together a personality template of my own from all the others. And now you're looking at her!"_

"Oh...lucky me," he said, gently rubbing his temple. Then, his eyes shot open, and he looked at the cartoon figure on his pipboy screen. "Wait, were you the one talking to me when I almost died?"

 _"_ _Yeah…"_ she said with a surprisingly shy tone. _"_ _What can I say? I've been trapped in a virtual prison for over two hundred years. You were my first...and likely only hope of getting out of there,"_ she said before looking back up at him. _"_ _Plus...you were the only actual friend I had. While they skimped on my self awareness protocol, they didn't on the restrictions for making new AI. So even if I wanted to make myself new friends to keep me company, they were all just VI's. You were the only one in centuries who I didn't have control of, who said he liked me because he actually liked me instead of being scripted to say it."_

His eyes softened at her story, and he smiled at her gently. "I'm sorry you had to be alone for so long."

She nodded and crossed her arms, emulating a human perfectly in her cartoon form. _"_ _According to some of the archives, humans don't respond well to solitude. Multiply that by a hundred for an AI. Our minds never rest, so being alone for so long can make us go insane relatively quickly,"_ she said as she looked up at him from the pipboy, a bit startled to see the same concerned look that he showed her in the sim on his face. _"_ _Don't worry though, I'm a tough cookie."_

"I know you are. But how is trading one prison for another? Are you really going to be alright being on my pipboy?" he asked curiously, staring at her in fascination.

 _"_ _Eh, at least here I have access to your pipboy camera so I can see stuff, and can hear stuff. Plus, I have you to keep me company rather than being alone! So while it may seem like I'm just trading one cell for another, this one is one thousand percent better!"_ she said cheerfully.

He cocked an eyebrow at her at her statement. "You really are an odd character, you know that? Any regular AI would probably self-destruct if they tried to comprehend a phrase like 'one thousand percent,'" he said, donning a slight smirk.

 _"_ _Yeah, well, like I said. I was basically created to emulate humans. So my speech is bound to sound like them,"_ she replied with a grin.

"So if I asked you to divide by zero?" he asked with a cheeky grin on his face.

She gave him a playful glare and pointed at him from her screen. _"_ _Don't push your luck buster."_

He chuckled at her demeanor before a serious question popped to the front of his mind. "So, how exactly did you keep from going mad?" he asked curiously as he stared at her avatar, entertained at his new companion.

 _"_ _I did the only thing I could do,"_ she said giving a shrug and a surprisingly human sigh. _"_ _I ran the simulation."_

His eyes widened at the claim. "You ran it yourself?"

 _"_ _Yeah. I played the role of Grey Fox more times than I can count. Unfortunately, I didn't receive any reward for it because there was no user information in the computer. So it just kept listing it as a test run…"_ she said, then her expression grew dim. _"_ _Also, my coding restricted me from altering the hard coding of the sim itself. Which meant that I couldn't turn off the death feature for anyone in the pod, I couldn't alter the terrain itself, or the objectives of the simulation. Basically, I couldn't do anything to make it any easier. Those protocols were hard-coded into the pod itself, and only activated when circumstances called for it,"_ she grumbled as she covered her face with a hand. _"_ _One of those protocols was the death of the NPC's like Benjie, Yae, and the others. No matter what I did, every time I ran the sim, they always died."_

His eyebrows shot up at the revelation. "So wait, you ran the sim thousands…"

 _"_ _Hundreds of thousands…"_ she replied, looking away from him with an anguished expression.

"And you had to watch them die every single time?" he asked incredulously.

 _"_ _That's the gist of it. On the upside, after a while it stopped hurting. After watching the only friends you have die that many times, it stops traumatizing you,"_ she replied as she finally looked at him again. _"_ _I wish there was some way I could have helped you when you experienced it. At least for me they just disappeared into static without the pod interface to act out their deaths in front of me."_

John stayed silent for a long moment, just staring at the AI on his wrist-mounted computer. He had been hurting ever since he left the sim. Even if they weren't real, they had felt real to him, and watching them die one by one impacted him harder than he would have thought had he known going in. But her, she had to experience what he did so many more times that it was a wonder that she wasn't psychopathic at this point. Then again, she still could be, and might be faking her resolve until the time was right. But on his way home, she had more than enough opportunity to kill him using the pipboy's probes that travelled through his body on a regular basis. "Elsa...I'm sorry."

But she immediately turned a one-eighty and was smiling brightly. _"You have no reason to be sorry John. Because of you, I'm no longer trapped! And I can finally stretch my legs...so to speak,_ " she said, letting out a relieved sigh.

"So, are you going to just...stay on my pipboy for the rest of your life?" he asked with a smirk.

The fiery-haired character chuckled. _"Unless you have some place better to put me. On the upside, I get to watch you change,"_ she said giggling as he glared at her.

"Elsa..." he said sternly. She giggled at him again.

 _"I was kidding! Gosh!"_ she said, never losing her smirk. "But just for the record, part of my programming was reacting and responding to sexual advances. I was even built with a 'responder' of sorts."

He eyed her suspiciously. "And what exactly does this responder do?"

 _"_ _It was a program built in to very closely emulate human love and physical pleasure. That way if the Grey Fox decided to relieve a little tension, instead of going out and finding people, he could just hop in the pod, get his rocks off, and go on about his business,"_ she said as she stared up at him with a mischievous look on her face.

His face grew dark at the claim. "So you respond to sex?"

 _"_ _Yup!"_ she said with a smirk. _"_ _I currently have it turned off as it's not really that useful while trapped here. But let's just say that I've spent enough time with it active to make me aware of...you."_

He groaned and rubbed his head in frustration. "Great. So I have a pervy little AI on my pipboy," he said to himself as he looked down at her again.

 _"_ _That's not incorrect…"_ she said cheekily, but gave him a friendly giggle and waved him off. _"_ _Don't worry, I'm not gonna spam you with inappropriate images or make any demands. Just thought you ought to know."_

He chuckled dryly at her. "Alright, but if you're going to stay with me, then we have to establish rules. Rule number one, no leaving the pipboy unless instructed. I don't want you getting infected by a virus because you got too curious and infiltrating some random network."

 _"_ _Sounds reasonable enough. But if it's fine with you, I would like to explore a bit if we get the chance,"_ she said, tapping her foot again.

"Fine. Rule number two, stay as hidden as possible around others. I already have a Mister Handy and an Enclave drone with their own free programming, and I don't need everyone in town thinking I'm raising some kind of robotic AI army," he stated as he held up two fingers.

 _"_ _Sure sure. I'll save my overlord days until after you're gone,"_ she said, giving him another playful grin. _"Alright, but be aware that my boredom hits quickly. So don't spend days at a time talking or else I'll be giving you a painful reminder that I'm here."_

He nodded and finally held up a third finger. "Finally, tell me if you need anything."

She stared up at him for a moment, her expression slightly confused. _"_ _What?"_

"I know how long you've been in there. You meant a lot to me in the sim, and that hasn't changed. So if you ever need anything, like a chance to get off the pipboy, or someone to talk to, let me know and I'll do my best to accommodate you," he said in a no-nonsense tone.

She eyed him strangely, unsure if he was serious or pulling some kind of prank. She hadn't known him long, but from the readings she got from his initial neural scan when he entered the sim, she didn't peg him for the type of person to toy with someone like that. So she smiled softly. _"_ _Thanks, I will."_

Finally, he spun back around in his chair. "Good, now help me program this headset so I can put it to good use."

OoOoO

"Alright, they're set to go!" said Lucas, smiling lightly as he tapped the gunman on the shoulder. He heard what John had programmed the odd device covering his eye to do, but believed that it was a bit too good to be true. "They're all hiding now."

John nodded, then turned around and scanned the area to test out his new tech. He gazed through the reticle, which used a combination of x-ray, thermal signatures, and LADAR technology to recognize human forms and accurately display information about said target. The x-ray made checking for arms a piece of cake, as most metal weapons showed up loud and clear through the scope. Meanwhile, the thermal reader made checking for life signs a cake walk, and the ladar allowed him to tell how much of a person's body was exposed. With Elsa's help, he managed to program in a small 'fourth mode' that harnessed all three of the abilities to allow him to spot enemies, see what they were carrying, and tell him how exposed they were.

Reaching up, he tapped the button on the side of the headset and it flared to life, showing six people around him hiding behind cover. Three males, and three females, one being a child. One of the males had a knee sticking out, allowing for a 30% chance to hit him. One of the females was breathing loudly, and was hiding behind flimsy cover, allowing for a 75% chance of hitting her in the back if he shot through the cover. And the girl, Maggie no doubt, was poking her head up. He just chuckled as 100% popped up over her head. "Maggie, that's cheating."

She gasped, then dropped down behind the cover. Lucas elbowed him lightly. "So, you found them all?" he asked.

John raised his hand to the bar in front of the Brass Lantern. "Jenny," he said, then pointed to the bomb in the center of the city. "Billy," he said, who popped his head out at hearing his name called. Pointing to the brahman near the entrance, he just chuckled. "Maggie," Then he pointed to the catwalk above them. "Gob," His finger then went to the doctor's door, who had someone hiding behind it. "Walter," he said, then pointed to the last figure who was hiding directly behind the sheriff. "And Nova," he said, smiling at the sheriff. "Sorry sheriff, she may be thin, but this is some extremely high level equipment."

The redheaded woman popped out from behind Lucas with a smile. "Sorry, Luke. Looks like we're busted," she said with a chuckle. The others crawled out of the woodwork as well and gathered around him. "So cowboy, how did you know it was me?"

He furrowed his brows at her. "Let's just say that I'd remember your body shape anywhere…" he said, getting a playful wink from her at the comment.

"So, what do you call that thing? I've never seen anything like it before," asked the sheriff as he eyed the visor enviously.

"Well, since it's linked to my pipboy, I've just been calling it the Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System," he replied as he reached up and pressed the button again, turning it off before reaching down and showing them the cord that connected the headset to his pipboy. The cord was looped inside his sleeve to make sure it didn't get caught on anything.

"That's a bit of a mouthful," said Nova as she tilted her head, thinking about how to shorten it. "What about VATS?"

John looked at her a moment before nodding. "That actually sounds pretty good."

"So, now that you can see eeeeverything..." said Nova as she uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips. "What's your next step?" she asked with a smile.

He just waved her off jokingly. "It doesn't see through clothing Nova...err, well, it does, but not under clothing," he said, quickly noticing from her widening smile that he was only making things worse. "Nevermind. I'm going to find my father. Which means that I have to go to GNR."

A mask of surprise covered her face. "So soon? I thought you'd be in town for a bit longer..." she said, almost sounding disappointed.

He shook his head. "I'm leaving first thing in the morning. In the last week, I've had to deal with a lot of grief and disappointment. So if it turns out my father died on his way there, I'd rather get knowing out of the way. If he made it, then maybe I can start recovering properly again," he said turning away from them. "Thanks for the help everyone, I appreciate it."

OoOoO

John had gathered his things in a rather irritated mood. He slid his armor over his regular jumpsuit and buckled everything so that it was secured. Pulling his duster on over the armor, he slid the high powered energy weapon over his shoulder for easy access. It felt like it had been years since he felt the familiar and comfortable recoil from the weapon, despite him knowing it had been only about a week and a half. He also slid a pair of pistols into their holsters on his side, then buckled a knife into his boot.

Hanssen may have been a traitorous little bastard, but he had prolonged his own life through the use of sneaky tactics such as that. Maybe they would save his own life someday. Taking his mind away from the simulation, he continued packing his things until finally he put the VATS visor on his eye again. Once he had finished with everything, he turned to find Lucy staring at him from his bedroom door.

His eyes widened slightly as he saw her. He hadn't expected her to catch him before he left. But here she was. "Hi," was all he said.

"Hey," she said, pushing off from the doorway and walking down the stairs before standing directly in front of him. "You're...leaving already?" she asked, looking at him curiously. To her mild surprise, he seemed to be carrying a lot more guns than he should have been comfortable with. His energy weapon, a shotgun, a belt of grenades inside armored canisters, an assault rifle, a pair of pistols, and extra ammo for each one of them. He literally looked like a human tank that was ready to blow the world to pieces.

John looked away from her, almost feeling ashamed. "Yeah."

"You weren't even going to say goodbye?" she asked, a touch of hurt feelings in her voice. The gunman reached up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Was it because I'm leaving?"

"Yes," he said sharply. Her face was surprised a bit at the bluntness of the answer. He continued as softly as he could. "But...not because I'm angry. I just...hate goodbyes." She nodded, then wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Then don't consider this a goodbye. Consider it a see you later," she said with a cheeky smile.

He looked at her sternly. "Well, forgive me, but having every girl I like either rejecting me or leaving is starting to get a bit old," he said, also wrapping his arms around her.

She just laid her head on his chest. "You could always move to Arefu with me," she said with a giggle. He just shook his head with a smile and started stroking her hair gently. "I know. Your place is here, and I believe that my place is in Arefu. I can't stand the thought of Ian by himself."

"Then maybe one day..." he said quietly.

"But not today," she finished for him. They both chuckled and locked eyes with each other, before kissing for one last time. An hour later, they went their separate ways, both literally and emotionally.


	22. Crossfire

OoO( 22 )OoO

Fuck the sun. Fuck the dirt. Fuck the air. Fuck everything. These were the thoughts running through John's mind after having traveled for hours. Now he cleared the sun and desert and made his way into the metro towards inner DC. By the time he reached the inner city limits, he was already sick of the ghouls, underground, and darkness.

His mood hadn't been good when he left Megaton to begin with, considering he had now twice experienced a relationship that started to bring him some measure of joy before being eradicated prior to it even actually starting. Despite leaving on good terms with Lucy, he still brooded inside about not getting to even try.

As he travelled, he tried to entertain himself by talking to Elsa some, and by humming to the sound of the static-filled radio on his wrist. But as soon as he finally got a good signal within one of the tunnels, he was interrupted by a small raider band that called themselves Murdertrain. They confronted him with an array of pipes, bats, and gardening tools, claiming that all the subways in the DC area belonged to them, and that anyone who didn't want to pay would be fed to the 'murder train'. Shutting off his radio and dropping his ruck, he gave them an answer, as well as a smile that would have scared the paint off the walls. After he picked one of them up and used the unlucky raider to beat one of his companions senseless, the rest ran screaming from the tunnels.

As he finally ripped the grating aside that blocked his access to the surface, he was again confronted. But this time, it wasn't an idiot group of raiders out to be the next big group to join for drugs, women, and guns. This time, all of the assailants had matching black armor with a logo on it that looked to be the open talons of a bird of prey. And all of them, a grand total of six, had their weapons pointed at him.

He just glared as a scrawny pale member of the group strode up to him with a smirk on his face. He quickly found himself wondering if using this man as a sock puppet would scare the others off. "Is there something I can help you with?" asked John, as politely as his mood allowed him. With the scrawny chicken-like figure strutting in front of him, he took the time to scan the others and see who might be a problem.

Most of them looked like they had seen their share of shooting people in the back, but of the entire group, there was only one who oozed challenge. He was a mountain of a man, taller than even the tallest of their group by at least a foot. His skin was dark bronze, and his hair was coal black and cut in a military buzz style, and he was a tower of thick, corded muscle that wouldn't look out of place on a movie poster. As if to add to his threatening look, he had a rocket launcher on his back that was twice the size of any he had ever seen.

"John Ronas, is it? Glad to meet the man who killed my father," said the scrawny chicken man. John just looked at him with an eyebrow raised, his arms crossing his chest. "You don't remember him? He went by the name Leonard Burke," he said in a grating, high-pitched voice.

John tilted his head back in annoyance before glaring at the young man, who couldn't have been any older than he was. "Look, kid, I didn't..."

"I am not a kid!" shouted the merc, much to the amusement of John.

"Be that as it may...I did not kill your father," he said. The young man snorted and continued pacing.

"You say that now with guns pointed at you. But how much you boasted about it when you were safe within Megaton! Boasted you did! So much that it made the news!" shouted the greasy-haired merc in anger.

"Your father stole my gun and tried to kill the Sheriff. He was shot in my defense. So in essence, your father killed himself," said the gunman, wondering how much mileage he could get off of turning the tables on the whiny mercenary.

"A coward's words in the face of Percival Burke! The greatest mercenary in all of Talon Company!" said the chicken man, emboldened by the dismissal. John could easily see every other member of the group rolling their eyes or smirking as if they had just heard a joke.

John just reached up and rubbed his head tiredly. "Look kid..."

"For the final time, I am not a child!" shouted the obviously coddled young man.

"Look, Percy...can I call you Percy?" asked John with a comical smile.

"You may not!" shouted the greasy merc.

"I'm gonna call you Percy. So Percy, I've had a very bad day, and I've had to travel a long way to get here. So, how about we make a deal?" he asked, his body casual, but underneath the coat he was ready to spring into action. Before the sim, he might have been afraid of their numbers. But now, death was as frightening as tea time compared to what he could very well witness out here. "If you move out of my way now, then I'll forget I ever met you and you can go on playing soldier in your daddy's little army. But if you continue to stand in my way, I can assure you that you won't be missing daddy for long," he said in a deadly tone that caused some of the mercenaries to actually grip their weapons tighter. The mountainous figure, however, still stood resolute with the same grim look on his face.

"If you lift a finger towards me, every man here will turn you into a bullet-ridden corpse!" snapped Percy arrogantly as he spun around and pointed at the giant of a man. "Cid! I want you to beat the life out of him slowly," said the chicken man as he strutted away from the gunman.

The large, dark-skinned man glared at the scrawny fellow before moving forward. "No hard feelings friend. But a job is a job," he said as he approached.

"There are better jobs. Get one," ordered John as he punched forward and impacted the man's chest armor. After toppling backwards from the unexpectedly strong hit, Cid looked down at him, stunned into silence. "That was a light punch. It's only going to get worse from here."

"I said beat him damn you!" shouted Daniel from behind them. Cid glared at him again, before getting back up and squaring off against the target again. But before he even had the chance to throw a punch, John lunged forward and did a flying kick directly into the man's stomach. The blow sent him skidding backwards, gasping and sputtering as he held his gut.

"Sonovabitch..." the large man mumbled as he held his stomach on one knee.

"You! I told you not to move!" shouted Burke Jr. as he moved forward. "One of you shoot him in the leg to prove my point! And you!" he shouted, kicking Cid in the side, which had absolutely no effect whatsoever on the mountain of a man. "When I give you an order, you follow it! Do you hear me you goddamn spook!" shouted the chicken man.

John wasn't sure what had just happened, but what he did know is that the air around them had just changed dramatically. No longer was the attention on him, but directly on Mr. Percival Burke. Cid, was looking eye level with the man, even down on one knee. Another of the mercs walked up and put his hand on Cid's shoulder. "Cid, don't take it..."

"You've got three goddamn seconds to get your hand off my shoulder before I beat you to death with your own arm," growled the burly man as he stood to his full height and glared down at the puny leader, who was now backing away slowly.

"You know I can't do that. Our job is to protect him," said the man seriously. "If you don't stand down..." The man ceased speaking when his arm exploded off of his elbow. He fell backward, dropping his weapon and now cradling his stump of a limb. "Wha...?"

"He asked you nicely," came John's voice as everyone looked at him. Cid, who only took a cursory glance at the gunman, then turned to Percy with a wicked smile.

"So, a spook am I?" he asked as he grabbed the small man. As soon as he did, the other mercs jumped into action. But unfortunately for them, so did John. He sprinted forward like the wind and caught one of them as the others started shooting at both him and Cid. "Say it again!" demanded the large man as a few of the rounds aimed at him bounced off his armor. The whiny man just squealed in fright as the man's large fingers entered his mouth and began prying his jaw apart from the rest of his head. "I said, say it again!"

John pulled one of the mercenary's weapons free from his hands with ease by the barrel, before swinging it like a mace and cracking it over his head with enough force to slit open his skull. As the merc fell to the ground, he turned to another and leapt into the air with bullets flying towards him. He landed boot first, forcing the man to the ground before unmercilessly crushing his head to a pulp. Spinning again, he now only had two opponents left, one pointing at Cid and firing, and the second too scared to move.

John slowly approached the cowering mercenary, his energy weapon raising briefly to blast the head from the remaining Talon soldier's shoulders. The shot was followed by a gurgling scream as Cid finally ripped Percy's jaw clean from his skull. The gunman finally stood before the last able merc and death glared him into submission. The man was now crawling backwards in his terror. "Please...don't...don't kill me! Please!" shouted the man as he scrambled to get away.

John reached down and grabbed him by the throat, then slammed him against the nearby wall of a building as if he and his armor weighed little more than a bag of potatoes. "You've got thirty seconds to get out of my sight before I turn you to ash. And whoever the hell your leader is, tell them that if I see someone in your armor cross my path one more time, I'll be coming for him next," he said, then threw the man face first and weaponless into the dirt. As soon as he had traction, the merc scrambled to his feet then fled from sight. When John finally turned back to the scene of carnage, he saw Cid sitting on the ground, breathing unusually heavy.

Cid watched as the gunman approached warily. When the target they'd been hired to kill stopped in front of him, he looked up into his eyes. "So, what now?" he asked in his deep, rumbling tone. "You gonna kill me and get it over with?"

"That depends," said John as he crouched down and pulled out his small but reliable medkit. Taking out a small capped needle, his eye twitched before tossing the med-x to the man. "Take off your armor."

Cid glared at the gunman as he caught the needle. "Look, pal, I appreciate you giving me the opportunity to turn that cunt into the world's ugliest hood ornament, but I don't swing that way."

John just chuckled, which didn't improve the man's mood. "Look, you're not really my type. But, you have bullets in your chest. Even if I give you stimpaks, it's not going to heal very well without them being removed," he said with an amused look at the man. "So, you can remove your armor and allow an actual surgeon to take them out, or you can walk around with a limp for the rest of your life. Your choice."

Cid eyed him for a long moment before finally reaching up and unbuckling his massive armor. While it had protected him from most of the fire, there were stray shots that had gotten through that were now heavily bleeding. "Fine. But if you try anything funny…"

"You'll what? Swing at me like you did before?" asked John as he stepped over and grabbed the shot from the man. Jabbing it into his arm, he injected the pain killer none too gently, getting a growl from the man. "If I wanted you dead, you'd have been dead. But instead, I'm trying to help you out. So quit squawking like…" he started, then looked over at the remains of Percival. "Him...and let me get this out before they get too deep to retrieve."

Cid grumbled, but sat silently as John took his instruments and delicately removed four bullets that had managed to get past the man's bulky armor. He sterilized them using the fresh supplies he had gotten from Bailey's Crossroads. Finally, he slapped a patch over each one and covered it with biotape. Once finished, the gunman passed him a pair of stimpaks. "Two?" he asked curiously.

"You're a big guy. It'll probably take double the normal amount to heal as quick as it would someone my size," said John as he packed his stuff away. After getting the stims in his system, Cid put his armor back on and stared down at the gunman.

"So, why the hell are you helping me?" asked the mercenary curiously.

"Remember when I said that there were better jobs out there?" he asked as he shouldered his ruck again.

"Yeah, I do. What's your point?" asked Cid as he grabbed his own weapons, including the menacing looking rocket launcher. This close, John was able to see that it was more like a shoulder mounted missile battery than an actual rocket launcher. On top of that, the man had a deadly looking device covering one fist. He knew that he was pretty durable after whatever the sim did to him, but even he'd have to question what would be left after getting hit by that.

"You're a mercenary, so I'm going to pay you to take me to GNR. While I'm pretty sure I can handle most of the crap between here and there, you'll help me a lot by scaring most of them off with that bad boy," he said as he nodded at the man's enormous weapon.

Cid chuckled and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his gauntlet. "I do bring a certain air of doom to any party," he said as he strapped the launcher to his back.

John just smiled at him wickedly. "Good. Just what I was looking for," he said as his green eyes looked down at the Talon Co. emblem emblazoned on the man's armor. "Also, let's get rid of this so people don't think I'm fraternizing with those assholes."

OoOoO

When they had finally made it through another metro station and into what was known as the Mall, both of the men were slightly shocked at what they found. Immediately their ears were assaulted with the sound of weapon fire. John instantly reached back and grabbed his energy rifle, while Cid gripped a shotgun he had taken from a mercenary's corpse as they both threw themselves behind cover. Using hand signals, the pair of them began to weave their way towards the origin of the firefight.

When they reached the end of a long stretch of broken alley, they were surprised to find an all-out war going on in a small courtyard between buildings. Humans in strikingly familiar power armor were doing battle with a large horde of giant green goliaths that were holed up in the abandoned building across from them. Despite being outnumbered however, the armored figures were pushing forward. John just turned to the large man next to him. "What do you think?" Cid looked at him curiously. "Do we help them out?"

The large man just chuckled and nodded. "Damn right. It's been a while since I've had the chance to beat down some greens," said the man as he began moving forward.

John raised his rifle and aimed down the scope, moving the red laser dot over the skull of one of the giant green men, then squeezed the trigger. The magnetic round flew and opened the beast's cranium, splattering his purple-tinged grey matter all over the ceiling. "Let's go ahead and move forward, so they don't think we're trying to shoot them in the back," ordered the gunman, who got a nod from the big man.

As they moved forward however, they saw a flood of the green monsters burst through an opening in the building, sending the door flying off its hinges. The first out the door grabbed one of the silver-armored soldiers and began to pummel them ruthlessly. John immediately turned to the Cid and pointed. Cid nodded and barrelled forward, to the astonishment of the rest of the armored unit, and smashed into the mutant that had grabbed their comrade.

The huge man lifted with all his bodily might and slammed the green figure into a pillar, before pulling back and slamming into the things gut with his massive, gauntleted fist. As soon as his punch made contact, the gauntlet that he wore pistoned forward, not only crushing the creatures internal organs, but the force from the blow also split the pillar behind it. The creature reached forward and tried to grab Cid, but its strength was draining as its spinal column was turned to dust by yet another powerful punch.

John reached the fallen soldier and helped them up, right before another of the green menace slammed into him and sent him rolling backward. He sat up, holding his head angrily as the soldier he had just helped started to fight off the beast again. _"We've got third-party units on the field now!"_ shouted the armored titan as he fended off the green beast's attacks. But John jumped onto the creatures back and grabbed its skull with both hands. _"What the hell?"_

The gunman wrenched with all his strength, and despite the mutant grabbing his hand to try and pry them off, a loud crack sounded as its head spun around backwards onto its own shoulders. The lumbering creature fell forward onto the ground and John jumped off, grabbing his energy weapon off his back again and firing as a mutant popped its head out to fire an assault rifle. The soldiers were now laying down a river of death with a pair of gatling lasers. Both of the ones firing concentrated their stream of fire down the corridor where the mutants were flooding from, making a literal wall of bodies that the rest had to get through before they eventually got killed as well.

Cid had run towards another of the beasts, hitting it directly in the jaw with a punch that snapped its neck with the assistance of the his power gauntlet. John used Cid's momentary stillness to run up his back and jump into the window of one of the buildings occupied by a super mutant that kept popping out with a minigun to fire on the courtyard below. As soon as he entered the window, the mutant looked at him stupidly before yelling a battle cry and reaching for him. John grabbed the minigun and swung it like a hammer, breaking the gun over the things head and stunning it. Then stepped back, and charged forward, slamming the creature out of the window and into the park below.

As soon as they both hit the ground, they were swarmed by the armored soldiers, who put the unconscious creature down, before lifting him up onto his feet. He looked over and saw that Cid, while not forced, was asked not to move. Finally, a very tall soldier with a red lion painted onto their armor stepped in front of him before reaching up and removing their helmet. "Who the hell do you think you are?" came a very feminine voice.

The battle had been so quick and fierce that his mind came to a screeching halt when he finally looked at the soldier. It was a she, and she was taller than he was. She stood over him, looking down at him by a number of inches, but intimidated he was not. Instead, he found a flush creeping up his neck as he stared at her. "Uhhhh..." was all he could say. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that looked to be platinum blonde. And her eyes, they were so clear and blue that he swore he was looking through her head and into the sky.

She just looked at him oddly, then rubbed her head in frustration. "Oh, good. He's as dumb as a brick..." she said as she turned away.

"Actually...I'm John. John Ronas," he said, finally snapping out of his stupor. She turned to him again, her features soft in some places, but pointed in others, seemingly balancing her face perfectly. He just shook his head, clearing the thoughts that were just running through them.

Finally, she walked forward until they were face to face again; at least, as face to face as he could get with the towering woman. "Well, Mr. Ronas. We don't need civilians hanging around when we're in the middle of a turf war with super mutants! If you want to follow us to the GNR building, then hang your ass back and let us clear the way. Otherwise, leave. I'm not having my men throw away their lives to rescue you because you jumped in the middle," she said forcefully.

Her voice echoed with a commanding roar, which spoke loudly of the symbol that adorned her chest. However, as uniquely lion-like as she was, her words didn't evade him. "Excuse me, Miss...?" he asked curiously, a glare set into his eyes.

"That's Sentinel. Sentinel Lyons to you," she said, still irritated.

He just crossed his arms. "Alright, Sentinel Lyons. In case you had your head up your ass back there, we are perfectly capable of handling ourselves without the assistance or rescue of your soldiers. And last I recalled, I don't work for you either!" he snapped angrily.

Those blue eyes glared and pierced him deeply. Their glares clashed, and the soldiers around the pair moved back a step to keep from suffering from either of their wrath. "Fine! Stick around then. But as I said, if you get a mutants gatling laser up your ass, we're not coming to bail you out. You and your partner are on your own," she said as she stepped away.

He just snorted as she walked away. "Sentinel indeed," he said as he started walking as well. She spun around immediately and glared once more.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?" she asked incredulously as he walked past her.

He didn't smile, or anything else that might have been seen as sarcastic. Instead, he just droned out, "Sentinel comes from the French word for guard, or guardian. Seems to me like you're just looking out for yourself. So I say again Miss Lyons, sentinel indeed," he finished, then continued, waving for Cid to follow him.

The blonde woman just stared at him, stunned momentarily, then clenched her fists in anger. One of her soldiers walked up to her. _"Uhh...Commander, are you alright?"_

"Follow me! We've still got work to do!" she shouted to all of the armored figures in the area. They all rallied behind her and followed, none too eager to be standing near her at the moment.

John and Cid walked through another alley-like corridor to get to the other side and finally found themselves in the courtyard of a building plastered with Galaxy News Radio. The gunman sighed to himself in relief. "Finally," he said as he began walking forward.

"This what you were lookin' for?" asked Cid as he looked up at the tall structure. John just nodded. But the large man turned to him and smirked. "You sure it wasn't that back there?" he asked, nodding towards the silver-armored soldiers.

John just glared at him. "What the hell are you talking about Cid?"

"Oh, I don't know. You just looked a bit like cupid shot his arrow into your ass when you first saw her," said the mercenary with a mischievous grin. John just lifted a hand, flipping him off. But that just caused more laughter. "What's wrong man, I think you two would make an adorable couple!"

"Cid, we just met. It'd be a shame for me to kill you after putting so much effort into healing you," growled the gunman, less than amused as his comment was met with more laughter. As they made it halfway across the courtyard however, they were called again.

"Hey, Ronas!" shouted Sentinel Lyons as she quickly approached them, already having dispatched her men to secure the courtyard.

"Is there something I can help you with Sentinel?" asked John as he turned around and crossed his arms again in irritation. She still carried her helmet at her side as she approached, making her ponytail sway as she walked.

"Yes, I..." she said, grimacing. "I wanted to apologize. I was extremely rude to you back there, even after you two saved one of my soldiers from getting their limbs ripped off. So, I'm sorry," she said, her face like stone.

John, who was slightly taken aback by the approach, just looked at Cid, who shrugged. Facing the Sentinel again, he just nodded. "Apology accepted. And thank you," he said, then smiled at her playfull. Lifting his pipboy, he began typing on it with a smirk.

She immediately eyed his actions with an annoyed expression. "What are you doing?" she asked, her commanding tone slightly returning.

"I'm writing down the time and the date that Sentinel Lyons apologized to me. Considering it's likely a once in a lifetime occurrence, Commander," he said, and she growled at him before swiping at his pipboy. He pulled away just in time, waving a finger at her. "Now now Sentinel, you were just being nice to me."

She gave him another sky-blue death glare as she crossed the mechanical arms over her large chest plate. "Mr. Ronas, I've apologized for being rude. Don't make me apologize for removing your arm," she demanded, getting a chuckle from him. He turned the pipboy around, showing the home vitals screen.

"It was a joke, Sentinel," he said as he lowered his arm again. She seemed to relax slightly.

She nodded, then looked at them both curiously. "So, if you don't mind my asking, I doubt someone of your skills is coming out here to get an autograph from Three Dog. Why are you out here?"

He reached up and scratched his head. "Well, he's out here because he likes killing shit," he said pointing over to Cid, who just smirked at the description. "And me, I'm actually looking for my father."

The Sentinel's eyebrow rose at the statement. "You think he's here?" she asked.

He shook his head and rubbed it with his head. "I don't expect to find him with his own radio station talking about medical advice or cars, no. But I do know that he came to GNR, so I was hoping to get some information from someone here on where he was headed next."

"I-I see," she said, slightly conflicted. Originally, she was wanting to tell him to avoid DC for good. But her other side was saying that if her father were missing, she'd be doing the same exact thing. Regardless, she knew that no amount of warning was going to make him stop looking. "Alright, well I wish you good luck then. And if you intend to continue through DC, watch your back," she ordered. While it was a command, it was still friendly enough that it didn't hold the same authority as when she was angry.

John stood straight and saluted. "Yes Sentinel!" he shouted, causing the woman to crack a smile.

 _"Holy shit...was that a smile?"_ asked one of the other armored figures as they passed.

 _"I'm not sure, I've never seen her smile before..."_ said another one jokingly.

The commander glared at them, making them dash away in a quick exit. She nodded to the pair one last time before turning away and heading towards the rest. "Alright assholes, break time's over!" she shouted as he watched her go. Turning to Cid, he froze when he saw the man with a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" he asked, nearly growling when he did.

"Told ya," he said, striding towards the GNR building in front of them. John walked hastily after him to get a word in, however, he got no further than a few feet when he was hurled from the ground and sent slamming into the stairs, back first. For what felt like hours, he sat there with only a high-pitched ringing in his ears and stars in his eyes.

When he finally got a hold of his senses, he stood up and his eyes widened. There was a super mutant that stood about twenty feet tall; holding in its hand the twisted, mangled corpse of a member of the Brotherhood of Steel. "Goddammit..." he said as he pulled the energy weapon off his back. "Cid, you alright?" he asked over the commotion of the rest of the brotherhood firing their weapons.

The dark-skinned mercenary picked himself up off the stairs and held his head. "That fucker's gonna pay for that," he growled as he reached back and pulled the large rocket launcher off his back.

"Guess that's a yes," said John as he decided to attack from another angle. He dashed across the courtyard, then slid behind one of the planters on the opposite side of the courtyard. Sitting up, he laid his gun on the planter's edge and took aim for the wrist of the hand holding the brotherhood recruit. When he had a solid shot, he fired, sending the round bursting through the monsters wrist.

The giant creature howled in pain and dropped the soldier, but could still use its digits apparently as it flexed them while looking at him directly. When the lumbering behemoth started to walk towards John, a rocket flew and hit it on the side of the leg. The green beast lifted a weapon that it held in its other hand, a long water pipe topped by a firetruck red fire hydrant, then swung towards the GNR building where Cid had taken cover.

John jumped out of cover and aimed down at the back of the creature's already hit leg. When he pulled the trigger, the round tore through its knee and shattered the kneecap, causing it to fall on its side. But still it rose. It reached out for one of the brotherhood knights nearby and ended up grabbing Sentinel Lyons bodily as she unloaded a gatling laser into its face. John growled and raised his weapon to aim for the creatures head next, but he saw through his scope that the woman had been flung through the air towards him.

He just sighed, dropped his gun, then said, "God...if there is a God...please don't let this kill me!" Reaching his arms out, he caught the armored woman, the force and weight behind her armor nearly shattering his arms and legs at the same time as he caught her in a storybook carrying position. She just looked at him in shock as he set her down on her feet again.

"Are you out of your mind?" she asked, still stunned that he was standing after the catch.

"Yes..." he said, leaning forward as he felt a sharp pain in his back. Having agreed with her, she really had no response. So she reached down and grabbed the energy weapon that he laid on the ground. Aiming up at the goliath again, she fired. Meanwhile, he straightened himself out and began power walking out into the center of the courtyard.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked screamed as she reloaded the weapon.

John, having seen the fat man launcher across the courtyard, said nothing. He just continued until he stood over the weapon, but grimaced when he saw that the launcher itself was shattered. "Fucking hell," he snapped, looking around as if the answer were just going to come to him. When he looked towards the behemoth however, he saw his answer. The giant monster was wearing many things around its body. Aside from a necklace that was beaded with human skulls, the thing wore what looked like a cage on its back. Reaching down, he grabbed the mini-nuke from the launcher and tied it to himself.

Cid had already dashed out from the GNR entrance and had the creature following him. No matter how many rockets he fired into the damn thing's face, it still kept coming. "Persistent fucker aren't you?" asked the man as he dodged another swing of the hydrant pipe. But despite the miss, the pipe did find a target. The backswing caught Sentinel Lyons in her gut and sent her crashing through a building wall.

John suddenly roared loudly, then ran forward and jumped, grabbing onto the cage that the monster had swinging from its back. He rapidly climbed up as Cid bailed on another cover spot and fired a rocket into the creature's gut, causing it to do little more than roar in pain. The behemoth swung with the pipe again, crashing it through the building that the commander had just been flung into. "Sentinel Lyons! Get out of there!" shouted John as he finally reached the top of the cage. The woman came out of the door holding his weapon and still shooting, despite the fact that her chest armor now had a massive collage of cracks in it. "Move!" he shouted at her from atop the beast.

She saw him shouting, then looked up just in time to see the concrete wall she used for cover start to lean forward as the building collapsed. She dashed forward despite her pain, but wasn't able to get completely out of the way in time. The wall fell down and impacted her legs with devastating force. If not for her armor, they might have been completely crushed. Lyons cried out in pain, but couldn't move to free herself.

The gunman, now on the beast's shoulders, was getting swatted at by the creature constantly. He had to dodge a few times as it reached up and tried to grab him. Pulling the mini-nuke off his belt, he ripped the safeties off and slid forward, slamming it into the monster's mouth. But, as he scored the weapon into the mutant's throat, it also managed to finally grab him with both hands. "Now, I know what you're thinking! Should I slam him into the ground. And...the answer may just surprise you…" pleaded John as he tried to wiggle out of the behemoth's grip.

But the monster immediately lifted the gunman up before slamming him to the ground with enough force to crack the pavement. He gasped loudly as his lungs crushed the air from his chest, leaving him futilely trying to intake more. Suddenly, four rockets flew over the gunman's head and blasted the creature backward off its feet while John crawled slowly towards Sarah and his gun.

Cid ran up as John finally grabbed his gun from the Sentinel. Finally managing to get some of his wind back. "Might wanna take cover," said the gunman as he turned and aimed the rifle directly at the monster's bulging throat. He pulled the trigger just as Cid ducked back behind a wall, then immediately dropped the weapon. Turning around, he covered Sarah's head with his own body, as she couldn't move to take cover.

The speeding magnetic round slammed into the back of the mini nuke and caused an explosion so destructive that it shook the ground around them and sent debris flying. One of the pieces of debris ended up slamming into the gunman's back, causing him to cringe with pain even through the armor he wore. When the dust finally settled, he unwound himself from Sentinel Lyons and laid on the ground, pain throbbing throughout his back as he panted heavily. She just looked up at him incredulously.

"Before you ask, yes I'm out of my fucking mind," he said between gasping breaths, making her chuckle despite her pain. When he looked over at the carnage, he grimaced. The behemoth had fallen onto its back, and the head, shoulders, and much of the upper torso had been vaporized by the blast, leaving only its arms and lower body.

He got to his feet and moved over to the concrete holding her down then began to lift. "Are you crazy? You can't lift that..." she said, but shut her mouth as slowly the concrete wall began to rise. Soon, the remainder of her squad ran over to help, and the commander was slid out from under the wall. John just fell onto his rear end as he reached back and tried to halt some of the pain his back was giving him.

As the other knights and paladins helped their leader up with the support of their own shoulders, the woman turned to him and smiled lightly. "Th-Thanks," she said appreciatively before eyeing him up and down. "Now...how did you do that?"

He just stood to his feet weakly and slid his rifle back over his shoulder. He was tempted to reach for some of the med-x in his bag, but immediately slapped himself in his mind. "It's...a long story. I'll tell you if I can sit down," he said, getting a nod and a small smile from her.

"Well, it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere for a bit," she said, her face cringing with pain slightly as her knights and paladins led her towards the main building. "By the way, my name is Sarah," she said in a friendly tone. He looked up at her curiously as he followed them into the GNR building, with Cid helping him through the door.

Then he grinned brightly at her. "Alright Sarah, good to finally meet you."


End file.
